


The Mutant Moses

by DocPJ



Series: The Mutant Moses [1]
Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Adult Content, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon LGBTQ Male Character, Controversial subject matter, Disturbing Themes, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, I don't know what I'm doing but I hope you're enjoying the trainwreck, LGBTQ Themes, Love at First Sight, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Romantic Fluff, Sexual Slavery, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-01-23 11:48:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 18
Words: 51,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12506716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DocPJ/pseuds/DocPJ
Summary: A secretive organization known only as the Society has been genetically engineering mutants for sale as slaves to wealthy humans. When one of them escapes with the evidence that could end the Society and free its captives, it is fate that brings him to the one person who can help him: Gambit.





	1. The Runaway

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in the current X-Men universe, when the school is located in Central Park. I wrote this at the request of a friend of mine, who provided the inspiration - tackling the difficult real-word crime of adult/child trafficking. If you cannot handle the brutality of this very real crime, this is not the work for you. Obviously, there are elements that are not canon.
> 
> I have written X-Men fanfic before, but this is the first time I have included an Original Character. Again, it is my dear friend who designed this character, and I thank her for the thought and time she put into to it.
> 
> This is a work in progress. I hope to include a new chapter a week if I can.
> 
> Comments/criticisms are greatly appreciated.
> 
> Wynnie, this is for you.

_“Find the X-Men. Get this to them. If you hold out any hope of saving the child, you must get this to them, Harper.”_

That was the last thing Harper’s owner, Jack Roddy, told him before he’d died from a fast-moving malignant tumor. When the doctors had first given Roddy the news, he was already in Stage 4 pancreatic cancer. There wasn’t much they could do. In the end, it had only taken six months for the cancer to claim his life. He had finally succumbed to it three weeks ago. Harper hadn’t even waited for the body to get cold before sneaking out of the hospital in the small hours of the morning. He hadn’t looked back, not once. Still, Harper had barely escaped the fate that awaited him after Roddy’s death: being sold yet again to a new owner that would undoubtedly abuse him just like the first two had. It had been a living hell for Harper. Roddy had been Harper’s third owner, and he had been entirely different than the others, treating him kindly, gently. For the first time in his life, Harper had been treated as something other than a piece of property, subject to every sick whim of his human owners. He’d had four years with Roddy; the idea of returning to a life of slavery, of casual cruelty, filled Harper with gut-wrenching fear.

Harper had watched Roddy spend his last weeks alive racing the clock to complete the task he’d begun two years earlier, gathering together all the evidence he’d collected, evidence needed to stop the trafficking of people like Harper. Harper knew that not only had it cost Roddy every last dime he had, but his life, too. And he’d done it for Harper, and those like him. The very least Harper could do was fulfill Roddy’s dying request, and the promise he himself had made to a child he’d never met.

Now, here he was, scared and alone in New Orleans, far from Corpus Christi, the place he’d called home since he was sixteen years old. Harper had walked, hitched the occasional ride, had even stowed away on a train once, but he’d had to forgo paid transportation. What money he had, he saved for food and water. He knew he had to start heading north, carefully following the map and compass that were among the few precious possessions he carried with him. Roddy had taught him how to use them, and without them, he would be lost, would have no hope of making it to New York.

Now, though, darkness had fallen, and Harper needed a place to shelter for the night. So far, he hadn’t been able to find anywhere that was public enough to afford him some measure of safety from those who would prey on him, but private enough where he could sleep without attracting the attention of the local police. Before arriving in New Orleans, he’d bedded down in parks, bus stations and the like, but so far he’d had no luck finding something suitable. And homeless shelters were out; the risk was much too high that someone would discover what he really was. Despite his fatigue, the overwhelming bone-weariness he suffered, he kept walking.

Earlier, he’d encountered a group of gaudily-dressed women in the French Quarter, their faces done up in heavy makeup, hair teased high and seemingly impervious to the elements. They’d called merrily to him, commenting on his youth and stunning good-looks, offering him their companionship in terms that made him blush. They’d also confused him at first; despite their appearance, he knew that they were men. No amount of flowery perfume could disguise the telltale scent of testosterone that Harper’s keen sense of smell had detected. Still, they’d been sweet to him, had fussed over him, and for a while he’d even forgotten how lonely he was. One of them - she’d said her name was Evangeline - had taken a particular shine to him, had even offered him a bed for the night, no strings attached. Harper had been sorely tempted to accept. It had been a long time since someone had shown him any measure of kindness, and the chance for some companionship had almost overridden his innate fear and distrust of humans, even ones who were as marginalized as he was.

Harper was beginning to regret his decision not to take Evangeline up on her offer, especially considering that it was beginning to look like he wasn’t going to find anywhere safe to sleep. He was sorely tempted to make his way back to the French Quarter and see if he could still beg a bed for the night from one of them, but had a hunch that they were long gone. Suddenly, the realization that he’d missed an opportunity to spend a night free of fear and loneliness with some kindred spirits left Harper feeling particularly bereft. He shared a kind of kinship with the little group, had lived a life that wasn’t that dissimilar from theirs: looked down upon by society, treated like a commodity, always at risk of casual violence from those who considered them disposable.

As Harper walked down the street, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window of a darkened restaurant. He was slender but well built, standing about five foot nine. His face was sharply angled, perfectly symmetrical. High arching brows framed a pair of emerald green eyes fringed with dark lashes. He had an old wool watch cap pulled down over a mop of wild chestnut hair, covering his large, sail-shaped ears. His long, thick tail was wrapped around his waist, hidden by the old pea-coat he wore. His jeans were split at the knees, dirty, tucked into a pair of clunky Doc Marten leather boots.

Despite his ragged appearance, people still stared at him. Harper was a mutant, designed to be beautiful, to be physically appealing, genetically altered and bred like some show animal to exacting specifications by a secretive group he knew only as the Society. It had been the only life he’d ever known. It was Roddy that had finally been the one to explain to Harper that what The Society had done to him and others like him was wrong. That they had to be stopped. Harper felt the reassuring weight of the locket around his neck. Inside was a small thumb-drive containing all the information necessary to bring the Society down. But he couldn’t do it, not on his own. He needed help. He needed to find the X-Men, and that was starting to look like an insurmountable task. Although Harper was quite intelligent, he was also quite naive. No one had ever bothered to teach him any real-life skills. He was like a babe in the woods, lacking the ability to function in the outside world. Especially in a world that simmered with hatred for mutants.

Lost in thought, Harper almost didn’t notice that he was being followed. It wasn’t that he’d heard them, or that he possessed some otherworldly second sight. Rather, it was because he was an empath; he could sense and interpret emotions - especially when they were broadcast directly at him - and project his own as well. He could even manipulate others’ emotions to a lesser degree, a skill that had helped him survive over the years. This had been especially true in regards to his second owner, Mr. Carver, who’d had a violent and often unpredictable temper. Harper had used his empathy many times to calm the man down when he’d turned that dangerous temper on him. And then there were his pheromones. Controlling them was a bit trickier. If he could stay calm and focused, he was able to produce specific pheromones that, like his empathy, could alter or enhance a person’s mood.

Unfortunately, because he was tired and stressed, he was unable to harness this power and use it to calm whoever it was who now stalked him. Harper adjusted the straps on his backpack and picked up his pace. He could sense two, maybe three people behind him. Their emotions were frightening. He felt their cold, calculated hate, their cruel joy. They knew he was afraid, and they were enjoying it.

One of them whistled. “Hey. Hey hey hey!”

Harper took a deep breath and focused. Slowly, he turned to face them. He found himself confronting three young men, street thugs, murder in their eyes. He did his best to send out calming emotions, hoped his pheromones matched.

“Hey, pretty boy! You looking to party?” The biggest of the trio took a step toward Harper. There was an odd gleam in his eyes. Harper knew that look all too well, for he’d seen it many times before. It was lust, primal and ugly, and Harper’s response to it was purely visceral, terror mingled with despair. He began to shake uncontrollably.

“Leave me alone,” Harper whispered. He struggled not to succumb to his fear. “I don’t have anything you want. I don’t have anything at all.”

The leader of the pack grinned. He looked Harper up and down, and actually licked his lips. “Oh, you got exactly what we want, pretty boy.”

Harper felt a cold chill dance up his spine, and knew without a doubt that he was in real danger. He turned and ran. Usually, he was quite fast and agile, but tonight he was exhausted, panicked, and absolutely terrified by the intense emotions directed at him by his pursuers. They weren’t just some random criminals seeking to rob him of his meager belongings; they wanted to hurt him in every sick way possible.

For a moment, Harper thought he might actually get away, but he stumbled and fell. He’d almost made it back to his feet when he felt a hand on his collar, pulling him down. One of them tore his backpack off, while the other two began their merciless assault on his body. Everything became a blur after that as he was punched and kicked. Harper fought back as best he could, but he had never been taught how to defend himself. He had been bred to be passive, trained to submit to the will of humans, to cater to their every whim, no matter how capricious or cruel. That he struggled at all was unusual for someone like him. Resistance of any kind meant punishment, a lesson that Harper had never quite learned, and he’d suffered for it, time and time again.

Harper finally stopped fighting and curled up in the fetal position, his fingers laced over his head, hoping that by some act of grace his attackers would be satisfied with the beating they’d inflicted on him. But then he felt them start to pull at his jeans, and everything changed. Harper bared his sharp teeth at them and hissed. Impulsively, he yanked the cap from his head, exposing his large furry ears. The men stepped back away from him, stunned.

“Mutie!” one of them spat. “Dirty fucking mutant!”

Harper managed to get on all fours. He was bleeding from his nose, and more blood from a cut on his brow blinded his left eye. He swiped at it, trying to clear his vision. His ribs ached; it was difficult to take a deep breath. Slowly, painfully, he got to his feet.

“Go away,” Harper growled. His tail whipped back and forth, and he advanced on his attackers, hands raised, sharp claws out and prominently displayed. “GO AWAY!” Something inside Harper, something long buried, bubbled to the surface: rage. He hit them with the full force of it.

It was enough. Harper’s attackers turned and ran, shouting insults over their shoulders as they disappeared into the darkness. Harper took a deep breath and willed himself to stop shaking. He picked up his coat and watchcap and put them back on and, looking around, was surprised to find they hadn’t taken his backpack. Harper would have hated losing it, although the few items in it were personal, worth nothing except to him: An old stuffed mouse, given to him by his mother. His sketchbook and cigar-box full of pencils. A tarnished penny that he’d found years before. A battered copy of To Kill A Mockingbird that Roddy had read to him and whose author he shared a name with. The scarf that a kindly woman had insisted he take when she’d found him shivering and soaked to the bone during a fierce downpour. A photograph of him and Roddy, taken on his 16th birthday, shortly after Roddy had bought him. The ticket stub from a midnight showing of Singin’ in the Rain, the one and only movie he’d ever seen in an actual theater. A bag of marbles that he’d never played with, but whose varied colors and sizes fascinated him. His entire life, squirreled away in a battered nylon backpack.

Sighing, Harper crossed the street and began walking again, heading north.


	2. Serendipity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the run, hunted, Harper finds salvation and help in a little roadside diner. Gambit is intrigued by the beautiful mutant he has rescued, but the ugly secret that Harper reveals to him is almost hard to believe.

It was late in the afternoon, the sun just starting to set on a small town in central Mississippi, when Harper spotted a roadside diner. His stomach grumbled; it had been almost three days since he’d last eaten.  He checked his dwindling cash, figured he could afford to buy something cheap, a sandwich perhaps.  He’d finally mastered the art of handling money. Now all he had to do was learn how better to interact with humans. The way they stared at him still made him uncomfortable.  Having been bred to be physically appealing, he knew he should be used to it, but still, it was all so bewildering.  And there were those times, like that awful night in New Orleans, when his remarkable beauty brought out the worst in humans.  There had been too many times that he’d been hurt by those who felt it was their right to plunder his body.

Harper shoved the memories back into that place where he kept all the bad things, and opened the door to the diner.  The place was old and cramped, just a few booths and a long lunch counter.  There were a surprising number of people there, about twenty, eating and engaging in quiet conversation.  Harper felt a rush of mixed emotions directed at him as he stepped inside, although it was with relief that he realized their reaction to him was because he was a stranger, and not because they knew, somehow, that he was different.  

He ducked his head and took a seat at the counter, grateful for the chance to get off his feet. He wished he could take the pea coat off - it was pretty warm in the diner - but it hid his tail. He didn’t think anyone would think it strange that he was wearing it, though; even in the South it still got a little cold in the Spring, especially at night, and sunset was only about an hour away. Harper figured it was worth it, regardless. Just the chance to eat and maybe even talk to someone was all he really wanted right now. He was so tired, and hungry, and desperately lonely.  In his twenty-one years, he’d never been truly alone before.  Never.  And now here he was, walking across the country by himself, trying to make it in a world he did not understand.

An old woman in a pink dress and clashing green apron approached him.  A faded nametag pinned above her left breast read “Lenore”

“You can pay, right?”  She asked, eyeing his disheveled clothes.  Harper sensed both caution and compassion in her.  The latter gave him a measure of hope that he might actually be able to rest and eat without much fuss.

“Yes, Ma’am, I have money.”  He dug in his pocket and put a ten dollar bill on the counter.  “I’d like something to eat.  What can I get for that?”  Harper, loathe to admit he couldn’t read, not even something as simple as a menu, turned on the charm and gave her his sweetest smile. “Something good, I hope.”  

Lenore smiled back at him.  “We make a mean burger, sugar.”

“Sounds perfect!” Harper nodded enthusiastically.

“You want chips or fries with that, honey?” Lenore asked, warming up to him.  Sensing this, Harper relaxed. It was so much easier to work his empathic charm on others when he was calm.

  
Harper gave her a sweet, earnest look.  “How about fries?”  

Lenore scribbled his order on a notepad. “You got it. Anything to drink?”

“Water, please.”

She clucked, but got it for him right away.  Harper guzzled it down.  His glass was quickly refilled.  A few minutes later, she placed his plate in front of him. The food looked and smelled incredible; saliva flooded his mouth in anticipation.  Harper picked up the burger, closed his eyes, inhaled deeply and went to take a bite.  He stopped when he felt a sharp tug on his tail. He gave an embarrassing squeak, and looked down to see a little girl with his tail in her hands. Harper was so tired, he hadn’t realized that his tail had slipped out from under his coat.  She giggled at him.

“KITTY!  Look, Daddy, a kitty!”  she cried, dancing up and down.  Harper realized the place had gone silent, and he quickly pulled his tail onto his lap.  He realized too late that doing so had only made the situation worse by letting everyone see his tail move independently like that.  He felt his heart thump painfully in his chest.  The father of the child quickly snatched her away, fear and distrust in his eyes.

“I don’t want any trouble. I’m just hungry.  I’m not going to hurt any of you,” Harper said quietly, putting out calming emotions.  “I’m no threat.”

Lenore eyed him warily; she seemed conflicted. “I’ll wrap that up for you.  You can eat it somewhere else.”

Harper nodded, defeated. “Thank you Ma’am.  Don’t mean to be a bother.” He gulped down his water and waited anxiously for the old woman to pack up his meal in a paper bag.  He felt someone’s eyes on him, and he glanced over at a man sitting in the far corner of the diner.  He was tall, roguishly handsome, thick auburn hair framing his foxy face.  His eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses, and he was dressed casually in a black turtleneck, jeans and a brown leather duster. A slow smile touched his lips and he gave Harper just the barest of nods. Harper felt a hot flush spread through his body, and he managed a shy smile in return.  Something about the man had instantly piqued his curiosity, made his heart beat faster.  He tried to think of something to say, but found himself tongue-tied.

A voice behind Harper broke his concentration: “We don’t want your kind here.”  The man was big, his neck as thick as Harper’s thigh.  He was surprisingly fast, too, snatching the cap off Harper’s head and revealing his large feline ears. “Get the hell outta here, mutie.”

Harper tensed; he could feel all those eyes on him, and he experienced a sudden wave of shame, for who he was, what he was.  “I’m leaving,” he whispered, hands shaking as he picked up the paper bag containing his food.  The man who had threatened him slapped the bag out of Harper’s hands, spilling its contents onto the floor.  Harper felt his heart sink.

“I said…” the bully persisted.

The quiet man in the corner stood up. He slowly removed his sunglasses, revealing a strange pair of eyes: blood red irises floating in a sea of black.   

“He heard you, homme. So did I. Now step away from de boy.”  His voice was like honey with a distinct Cajun patois, but there was no mistaking the edgy, threatening tone.

“Jesus, you freaks are everywhere,” the man growled.  But he took a step back anyway.

Harper reached down to pick his food up off the ground.  He was stopped by a gentle hand on his wrist.

“Don’t, cher.  I’ll get you somet’ing else, somet’ing dat ain’t been on de floor.”  The man with the devilish eyes smiled warmly at him.  Harper gave him a tentative smile back. “C’mon, let’s leave dese people to dey own business, neh?”  He didn’t wait for an answer and guided Harper toward the door.  Outside in the parking lot, he led Harper to where his car was parked.  It was an old Corvette, beautifully restored.  

“You want me to go with you?”  Harper asked, unsure of himself.  He cast a nervous glance over his shoulder at the diner, could see the people inside huddled around the large picture window, staring at him.  Even with the barrier, he could feel their hate and fear. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

“It’s dat or walk, petit.  It’s up ta you.”  The man shrugged. “But to be honest wit’ you, I t’ink it would be safer if you came with me, neh?”

Harper sensed no ill intent from him.  In fact, he’d felt an instant attraction to the stranger from the first moment he’d laid eyes on him, and trusted him without even understanding why.  

“Alright.  Thank you.”  Harper opened the door and dropped down into the passenger seat, waiting as the stranger joined him in the car.

“What’s your name, cher?”  the man asked as he pulled the Corvette onto the road.

“Harper.”  

He laughed, a sweet mellow sound.  “Harper…?”  

Harper tilted his head, intrigued by the way the man pronounced his name, a slow and gentle drawl:  HAA-pah.  He was starting to love the sound of the man’s voice, the way it made him feel safe and happy.  Harper was surprised at his reaction, and realized he’d been staring at his accidental benefactor.  He glanced away quickly, embarrassed.

“Just Harper,”  he said finally, and looked down at his hands, clasped tightly in his lap.

“Well, Just Harper, I am Remy Etienne LeBeau, and I am pleased ta make your acquaintance.”  He flashed Harper a comforting smile.  “See dat red bag in de back?  Grab it.”

Harper leaned over the seat and found the bag.  Inside were a dozen or so pastries dusted with powdered sugar, and a thermos.

“Coffee and beignets, petit. Ain’t much, but it’ll tide you over ‘til we can get you somet’ing proper.”  He nodded his head, encouraging Harper to eat.  “Go on, honey. Help yourself.”

Harper dug into the bag and stuffed one of the deep-fried treats into his mouth.  He groaned.  “That’s good,” he said as he wolfed it down.  He sipped at the coffee, strong and hot.  Another pastry disappeared into his mouth.  “Thank you.”

Remy looked at him with concern.  “Damn son, how long it been since you ate?”

Harper swallowed and blushed darkly.  “Um...a few days.  May I have another?”

“I said help yourself, didn’t I?”  Remy leaned toward him for a moment, gently brushed his fingers near the angry red wound above Harper’s eye. The younger man flinched noticeably, which made Remy’s heart ache. He could see the fading bruises on his cheek and jawline as well.  “Someone worked you over pretty good, petit,” he said softly, his eyes full of compassion.

“It’s nothing,” Harper whispered, shrugging.  “I’ve had worse.”

Remy frowned.  He wanted to ask, but decided against it.  Instead, he directed the conversation to something he hoped would be less stressful for the younger man.  “So Harper...where you headin’?”

Harper bit his lower lip; it was a nervous gesture, one that Remy would come to recognize. “New York.”

Remy whistled low; that was a hell of a long distance to travel on foot, alone.  And dangerous too, especially for a mutant as young and beautiful as Harper.  He wondered what was so important in New York that Harper would risk his safety to get there.

“New York, eh?  Good day ta be you!  Dat’s where I’m headed, into de city, as a matter o’ fact.”  Remy paused and waited for Harper to say something.  He was met with silence.  “Where exactly you need ta be?”

“Um...Central Park. The Xavier school.”  Harper pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket.  On it was a map of New York, with the location circled.  He tapped it for emphasis, then stuffed another beignet in his mouth.

Remy gave him an odd look.  “Xavier’s?  Why?  You wantin’ ta go ta school dere?”

“What? No. I just turned twenty-one, so I’m probably too old for that,” Harper said, chewing slowly.  “I need to find the X-Men.  I need their help.”

“I see,” Remy said.  He wondered if he should tell him, if the younger man would even believe him.  After a moment, he decided to take a risk.  “I can help you, Harper.  I can take you dere.”

Harper seemed surprised, and looked at Remy with mild suspicion. He drank from the thermos, as if taking his time to formulate a response.  “Why would you do that?  You don’t even know me.”

“I’m a mutant too, cher.  And I happen ta know de X-Men quite well.”  Remy paused for a moment.  “I’m Gambit.  You know de name?”

“Gambit?  You?”  Harper’s voice trembled.  He’d memorized all their names.  “You’re GAMBIT?”  He started to laugh, although not for the reason Remy thought.

“What so funny, eh?” Remy asked, giving Harper an odd look, amusement mixed with curiosity.  

“N...no...no, I’m not laughing at you.  Just...I guess, my luck isn’t usually this good,” Harper said, nervous now.  He was afraid he’d somehow insulted Remy.  It was really more a case of being star-struck. It didn’t help that Remy was absolutely gorgeous, either.  “I can’t believe you’re Gambit.  I mean, I DO believe it, but I just, it’s just that you...oh damnit…”  Harper pressed his palm to his forehead, mortified by his reaction.

Remy chuckled.  “Easy, petit. I ain’t offended.”  He reached over and gave Harper’s hand a quick squeeze then let go.  Harper felt a rush of heat at the brief touch and couldn’t help but smile.  He hadn’t felt this content in a long time, not since he was a very small boy.  He’d been just five years old when he’d been torn from his mother’s arms, and since then he’d never felt safe or happy again. Until now.

“Remy, I...I don’t know how to thank you.  I was losing hope of ever finding the X-Men,” Harper said, his voice rich with emotion.  “When my owner died…”

“Owner?”  Remy said, more sharply than he had intended.  Harper shrunk away from him, his back pressed to the car door, eyes wide, pupils dilated so fully that only a thin halo of green was visible.  Remy could almost smell the fear on him, and was quick to try and reassure him.  “Ah, Harper, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean ta scare you, petit.  But what do y’mean, _your owner_?”

Harper was chewing his lower lip.  His eyes were downcast.  “I’m afraid you won’t believe me.”  He stopped and looked back at Remy, searching his face.  “Sometimes I don’t believe it myself.”

“Honey, I’d know if you were lying; I’m an empath,” Remy said softly, giving Harper a pointed look.  “And I know you are, too.”  He folded his hand over Harper’s clenched fist and stroked the ridge of knuckles with his thumb.  “Tell me what you meant...about you having an _owner._ ”

Harper closed his eyes and concentrated on the calm feeling he was sensing from Remy, the gentle touch of his hand.  He was experiencing so many emotions himself: exhausted gratitude, the sense of peace from the reassurance that he was safe, the relief that he could finally tell someone.

“I’m a mutant that has been specifically bred and cross-bred, genetically manipulated to produce a desired outcome by a group of humans who call  themselves the Society, to be sold to whoever commissions our creation. They call us Pets.”  Harper gave a bitter little laugh at the appellation the Society had given its mutant slaves.  “We’re raised and trained like animals, Remy. I’m not sure how many there are of us, mutants bred into captivity, but my own...Mr. Roddy...figured it may be over fifty.”  Harper’s voice drifted off, and he seemed reluctant to continue.

Remy winced.  “M’Dieu...ah, Harper!  I know dis is hard for you, but don’t you stop now.  I’m here, and I believe you, and I’m gonna help you.”  He held tighter to Harper’s hand for emphasis.

“Thank you.  It’s just, you know...hard to talk about,” Harper said softly.  He looked outside the window at the scenery racing by and took a deep breath, then let it out slowly.  “There’s four types of Pets:  Breeders, who produce the next generation of Pets.  Show Stock, they’re bred and trained like damned cats and dogs and judged on appearance, obedience and genetic purity.  Workers, they’re designed to be laborers with specific jobs, although many are used to commit crimes in order to enrich their owners and the Society in general...it’s so much easier to rob a bank using a mutant who can teleport right into the vault after hours, you know?” Harper laughed bitterly and then looked at Remy, as if waiting for him to say something. Remy remained quiet; the way the muscles in his jaw were jumping, Harper knew he was clenching his teeth. He was almost afraid to continue, but he did, despite the fact that the hardest part was coming.

“Lastly, there’s the Exotics, Remy, the most rare and sought after.  Not to mention the most expensive.  Bred to be physically beautiful - often with animal DNA included to produce a certain look - and passive, chosen for their mutant abilities, trained to submit completely to their owners and expected to act as...ah...special ‘companions’.”  

Harper stopped, looked as if he might be sick.  He swallowed hard and took a another deep breath.  “Exotics are...body slaves, Remy, designed for pleasure, for the sexual gratification of their owners.”  There was a sudden catch in Harper’s voice, and for a moment he could not speak. His cheeks were flushed, and he wondered, briefly, if he had the strength to continue. After a couple of minutes, he was able to pick up the thread of his tale.

“I’m an Exotic, Remy.”  Harper said, his voice so soft that Remy had to strain to hear him. “I was forced to submit to my first owner when I was just ten years old.  He was not kind to me, and used me cruelly. And despite my training, I rebelled, usually in small, passive-aggressive ways. I was bought and sold two more times after that, because I was known for being disobedient, for being difficult and willful.”  Harper sighed heavily.  “I think that’s why Mr. Roddy bought me, because it was said I couldn’t be broken. He was intrigued because I was a challenge.  Well, that and I was a real bargain, what with my reputation for obstinance.”  Harper laughed, but it was a sad sound that conveyed with more than mere words just how hellish his life had been.  “Mr. Roddy was different; he didn’t use me like the others had.  He was gentle and kind, and with him, I didn’t mind so much whenever he took me to his bed. He even grew to love me, in his own way.”

Harper stopped suddenly and cleared his throat, and when he spoke again, there was no mistaking the raw emotion in his voice. “Anyway, Mr. Roddy...over time, he came to believe that what the Society was doing was wrong. He wanted to set me free, set us _all_ free.  But he died, and now it’s up to me to finish this. But really, Remy, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.  I feel so useless. I...I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do now.  If you hadn’t been there in that diner, I don’t think I would have made it anywhere near New York.  I have no skills, no experience in the real world. I’ve been kept like a pretty doll on a shelf, something to be played with and then passed on when you get tired of it, discarded like trash, like nothing.  Hell, Remy, I don’t even know how to _read._ I don’t know how to use a cell phone or a computer. After being used like a living, breathing fuck-toy for so long, I honestly don’t know what else I’m good for. I’ve never known any other life.”  

Harper pressed his hand to his mouth, worried, suddenly, that he might vomit. He’d surprised himself with how much he’d just revealed to Remy, and the admission made him feel dirty and exhausted. He could feel Remy’s eyes on him, and he found he was reluctant to meet his gaze, afraid what he’d find there.

Remy pulled the Corvette over onto the side of the road, put it in park, and twisted in his seat to look at Harper.  The sadness he saw in Harper’s big green eyes hit him hard.

“I’m sorry, Harper.”  It was all Remy could think to say.  Tears welled up in Harper’s eyes and spilled down his flushed cheeks.  Gently, Remy wiped them away.  He could feel Harper’s deep shame for what had been done to him. It was an emotion Remy was all too familiar with.  

“Ah honey...don’t you even,” Remy whispered. Harper knew what he meant, and suddenly Remy’s kindness, his strong comforting presence, was too much for Harper, and his carefully-constructed walls came tumbling down.  He began to sob hoarsely, a lifetime of pent-up grief let loose at last.  Remy pulled him into his arms and just held him, cooing reassurances in his ear, rocking him like a child.  Harper clung to him like a drowning man would, his entire body shaking violently as he wept.

“Shh, petit.  It’s gonna be alright,” Remy soothed, stroking Harper’s back.  “I got you, Harper, I got you.”

“I...I’m so sorry…I’m so sorry Remy...” Harper said between sobs, his face buried in Remy’s shoulder.  Remy could feel Harper’s hot tears on his neck, and struggled not to begin weeping along with him.  It was more than just Harper’s intense emotional outburst that was affecting him; it was his own memories of a childhood scarred by abuse that made his eyes swim with unshed tears.

“Hush y’self. Ain’t not’ing for you ta be sorry _for,_ cher,” Remy reassured him.  He pressed a soft kiss to Harper’s brow and held him even tighter.  When the sudden storm of Harper’s tears had finally passed, Remy sat back and looked at him, and found himself marvelling again at just how beautiful he was. From the moment he’d first seen Harper, he’d been completely captivated by him, amazed at how lovely and sensual a creature he was. Even the way Harper moved, graceful and languid, fascinated Remy.

“Thank you, Remy,” Harper said softly, wiping his eyes.

Remy smiled at him.  “You’re welcome, petit. After everyt’ing you been t’rough, ain’t no shame in crying.”  Harper smiled back at him. Remy had a sudden, almost overwhelming desire to pull Harper back into his arms and kiss him, really kiss him, an urge that caught him completely off guard.  It took him a moment to center himself again. Remy wondered if Harper had picked up on it. If he had, he didn’t give any indication of it.

“Are you sure about this, Remy?” Harper asked, nervous again. He hugged himself with his arms, a gesture that made him seem so achingly young and vulnerable. “About helping me? I don’t want to be a bother.”

Remy waved his hand, dismissing Harper’s concerns. “You ain’t no bot’er, cher, not at all.” He paused and squeezed Harper’s shoulder for reassurance.  “I will do whatever it takes ta protect you, ta stop dis Society,” he said.  “I promise you dat, Harper.”

Harper closed his eyes, took a long, shuddering breath.  He slipped the locket from around his neck and held it in his hand.  “Inside this is a thumb drive with all the evidence. Everything about the Society, how they operate, where the money comes from. There’s a list of all their members and where they are, what Pet they own.  I want you to take this, keep it safe, just in case...well, just in case something happens to me, you know?”

Remy took it from him and turned the rectangular-shaped locket over in his hand.  “Petit, I will guard dis wit’ my life, but I gotta know...is dere a reason you afraid? Is dere someone tryin’ ta find you, ta _hurt_ you?” Once again, he took hold of Harper’s hand, but more to reassure himself this time rather than Harper.

Harper nodded.  “I know that the Society is looking for me; I’m sure by now they know about the information I’m carrying, and that’s got to scare them.  At first, they were just treating me like a runaway, but that’s changed.” He paused and shrugged.  “After Mr. Roddy died, I was supposed to be turned back over to them to be sold to a new owner. But I snuck out of the hospital right after Mr. Roddy took his last breath, ran off before they could come and claim me.”  He stopped and brushed an errant lock of his hair from his eyes, silent for a moment while he fought back fresh tears. Not until he was sure he had his emotions back under control did he continue.

“I’ve had a few close calls since I left Texas; I barely managed to escape a pair of Hunters last week.  And the hunt seems different than in the beginning; they seem a lot more desperate to find me, and I can only think it’s because they’ve figured out what I’m up to.”  He bit his lower lip. “It’s only a matter of time until they catch me, Remy.  And when they do...”  Harper didn’t finish the thought.  He didn’t need to.

Remy experienced a sharp flash of protectiveness for Harper, and fear, too. It wasn’t hard to imagine what the Society - whoever they were - would do to Harper if they caught him, especially now that he no longer had the one thing they really wanted: that thumb drive.  The very thought of Harper falling into their hands filled Remy with a dull sense of dread.  

“Is dat who did dis ta you?” Remy asked, once again touching Harper’s face.  This time, Harper did not flinch.

“No.  I got jumped in New Orleans,” Harper rubbed his eyes, as if trying to wipe away the memory. “Guess they thought I had something worth taking. I suppose I’m lucky all I got was a beating. If they had been Hunters, they would have done much worse.  The only thing they want from me now is that locket.  If they do manage to get their hands on it, my life won’t be worth shit.  They’ll put me down like some rabid dog.”

Remy shook his head.  “Dat ain’t gonna happen, Harper.  You are wit’ Gambit now.  Ain’t nobody can find me dat I don’t want findin’ me.  No way dey getting dere hands on you.”  He paused and pulled the car back out onto the road.  It was starting to get dark.  “I know a place not too far from here.  Very safe and discreet.  We can hunker down dere for a couple days, let you rest up, get some food into you, and maybe some clean clothes, neh?  Den we’ll get you ta de X-Men.” He reached over and gently stroked Harper’s arm.  “I swear, dey ain’t never gonna hurt you again, Harper, not so long as I got anyt’ing ta say about it.”


	3. Hunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After learning Harper's secret, Remy agrees to help him get to the X-Men with the evidence he carries. Along the way, they stop to rest at an old mountain resort. Despite his misgivings, Remy cannot deny the attraction between them.

It was well after dark when Remy pulled the Corvette into the grounds of an old mountain resort, known simply as The Pines. It was tucked away in the woods, far from the main road, and consisted of a dozen small cabins spread out over a five-acre area. It looked like only a couple of the cabins were occupied at the moment, and Remy knew that whoever they were, they were probably like him: someone wanting a nice, anonymous place to hide out for a little while, where no one asked any questions, not the owners or the other guests. The Pines was a well-kept secret, known for its discretion, and used almost exclusively by people who were wanting to attract as little attention as possible. The guests weren’t bad or overtly dangerous people, mostly those living on the fringes of society, engaging in business that wasn’t necessarily on the right side of the law. Remy, the current head of the New Orleans Thieve’s Guild, had found out about the place from his father, Jean-Luc. Since then, he had stayed there many times, and knew the owner well.

Remy parked the car in front of the manager’s office and got out. “Stay here, Harper. If anyone should come lookin’, I want DeWayne ta be able to say he don’t know anyt’ing about you, not what you look like...not’ing. Don’t you worry, petit. I’ll be right back.”

Harper looked scared at the thought of being left alone, but nodded, understanding. “Alright, Remy.” Remy decided to take the car keys with him - he had no idea if Harper knew how to drive a car, but he was fairly confident that the young man didn’t - and made sure the doors were locked before heading into the office.

The man behind the counter looked up as the door chime sounded, and gave Remy a broad, gap-toothed smile. He was tall, a little on the heavy side, with skin the color of ebony.

“Well if it ain’t Remy LeBeau!”

Remy smiled back at him and sketched a little bow. “Bonsoir, DeWayne! Good ta see you, old friend. I need my usual cabin, two nights.”

DeWayne grabbed the key from the box and handed it to Remy. “Just two nights? That’s a shame. It’s beautiful here this time of year.”

“Got business up north,” Remy explained. “I’ll stay longer next time, je promets.”

DeWayne nodded. “You need anything, let me know.”

“You got you a shaving kit? I don’t have mine. Need a razor, soap, toothbrush…”

“Course I do. This ain’t the Ritz, but I got the creature comforts.” He handed Remy a pre-packaged hygiene kit full of travel-sized items. “Lemme know if you need anything else.”

“I might need ta borrow your truck, run by town for some supplies. Gimme a list, and I can pick up anyt’ing you need.”

“Naw, I just stocked up. But you’re welcome to use that old piece of shit. Keys are under the visor.”

“You a real lifesaver, you.” Remy grinned at him. DeWayne waved his hand.

“Pfft. Least I can do after what you did for my Janey.”

“Was not’ing. Merci, DeWayne.” Remy grabbed the shaving kit and hurried back to the car; he didn’t like leaving Harper alone for too long. Harper was clearly relieved to see him again.

“Got us a room for a couple nights, cher. I t’ink you gonna like de place.”

He drove the car over to where their secluded cabin was, and parked the Corvette behind it. Remy grabbed his bag from the trunk and unlocked the door to the cabin. It was small but cozy, with a fireplace, kitchenette and a full bathroom. Remy was especially fond of that particular amenity; the tub was old, one of the club-footed porcelain kinds, but it was big and deep. Perfect for soaking in. Harper seemed appreciative of the rustic little space, but what really caught his eye was the bed, freshly made with clean linens and a thick down comforter. He gave Remy a cautious, questioning glance.

“Sorry, cher, only de one bed. Don’t worry, it’s plenty big for de bot’ of us.” Remy set his bag down on the floor and studied Harper’s face. He worried that Harper had misunderstood his intentions, and was quick to reassure him.

“Mais non, cher...dere ain’t no price you gotta pay for my help. D’you really t’ink I would demand dat of you, petit, make you do somet’ing you don’t want?” He shook his head fiercely. “I ain’t like any of dem bastards who hurt you. You never gotta worry ‘bout dat, not wit’ me, Harper.”

Harper looked away, ashamed again about his past. He was concerned now that he’d given Remy the wrong impression, that he was reluctant to share a bed with him. Quite the opposite, in fact.

“I wasn’t thinking that, Remy,” Harper said softly, chewing his bottom lip. “I’m just...it’s that you…” his voice trailed off, and he stared at his feet. “I don’t mind at all, actually.” He lifted his eyes to meet Remy’s steady gaze and smiled shyly.

Remy felt a little rush, surprised by Harper’s unspoken desire; it left him feeling conflicted and unsure of himself, something he wasn’t used to. After a moment, he returned Harper’s smile.

“Glad dat’s settled,” Remy said, chuckling lightly. “However, I do have one requirement if we gonna share a bed, petit.” He handed Harper the toiletry kit. “No offense, but you need a bath.”

“Oh,” Harper bit his lip, self-conscious now. It had been a while since he’d been able to properly bathe. Since leaving Texas, the best he’d been able to do were quick washups in bathroom sinks. With an apologetic shrug, he took the proffered toiletry kit. “A bath sounds good. Thank you.” He turned sharply on his heel and went into the bathroom. Moments later, Remy heard water running, followed by the sound of Harper groaning happily as he slid into the warm tub.

Remy changed into a pair of sleep pants and a t-shirt. He pulled out an extra set for Harper and carefully cut a hole in the back of the pants to make room for Harper’s tail. When he was done, he knocked softly on the bathroom door.

“Just me, petit. Got you somet’ing clean ta wear.”

“Come on in,” Harper said. Remy opened the door, and was surprised that Harper hadn’t drawn the shower curtain. Apparently, the young man had no issues with nudity. Remy couldn’t help but look. Harper was truly beautiful in every way, though he seemed completely ignorant of the fact. His skin was pale, like alabaster, and flawless, nicely offset by the dark fur of his tail and ears and his thick chestnut hair, though there was very little of it on his body. There was only a light dusting of hair on his chest that brushed across his well-formed pecs, with a sexy line that ran from his navel on down to his groin.

Remy thought he looked like a painting, something almost unreal. His body was perfectly proportioned, leanly muscled, with a broad chest tapering down to a trim waist. His long, thoroughbred legs were nicely sculpted, but it was what was between those powerful thighs that made Remy’s entire body thrum with desire. He couldn’t help but think about how good it would feel to have those long legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

Remy forced himself to look away and wondered, briefly, if Harper had noticed him staring at him like some goggle-eyed fool. A slow smile tugged at the corners of Harper’s full lips; he’d caught Remy looking, and it seemed to please him. Instead of making Remy feel better, it actually had the opposite effect. Harper was naive in so many ways, and obviously desperate for companionship. Remy didn’t want to take advantage of that need, despite the fact that he was just as lonely as Harper.

“Here you go, cher,” Remy muttered, setting the clothes down beside the sink. Before Harper could answer, he fled the bathroom. His attraction to Harper was so strong and almost overwhelming; it had taken him completely by surprise. Remy knew it was more than just sexual, too. When he’d first drawn Harper into his arms, comforting him while he wept, the feeling had been so natural, so perfect, as if he’d known the younger man for years. And it scared him.

“Stop it,” Remy whispered to himself, ashamed of the thoughts he was having about such a vulnerable creature. Harper had been abused for most of his life; he certainly didn’t need Remy lusting after him. He trusted Remy so much, and the feelings Remy had for him seemed like such a violation. Remy dropped down onto the bed and turned on the television, hoping to distract himself from the erotic fantasies that were playing out, unbidden, in his mind.

Unfortunately for Remy, he could not stop thinking about Harper, wondering what it would be like to lie with him in his arms, to kiss him and touch him in the most intimate ways, to feel his inner heat.

A knock on the door jolted Remy out of his daydreaming. He jumped off the bed and peered out the peep-hole. Seeing DeWayne standing there with a covered tray and a large pitcher of sweet tea, Remy broke out in a grin and opened the door.

“Thought you might be hungry, Remy. There’s enough here for two,” DeWayne said, winking at him. He set the tray down on the little table. “Ain’t nothin’ fancy.”

Remy lifted the lid to find a generous helping of fried chicken with all the trimmings - mashed potatoes and gravy, corn, biscuits, and pie for dessert. It smelled incredible.

“You de best, homme,” Remy said, giving DeWayne a quick hug. “Not’ing better den your Janey’s cooking.”

DeWayne laughed, nodding. “I’m surprised I ain’t a whole lot fatter, the way that woman feeds me.” He stopped and glanced briefly at the closed bathroom door. “I got to thinking; maybe it would be best if you didn’t leave the cabin while you’re here. Always safer to keep a low profile.”

“Never could fool you,” Remy laughed. “Anybody come askin’, it’s just me here.”

DeWayne cocked an eyebrow. “Can’t believe you even have to tell me that.” He clucked his tongue. “I’ll be by in the morning to get the dishes, check in on y’all. Let me know what you need, and I’ll send my boy into town to fetch it.” He held up his hand before Remy could object. “No use arguing with me, my friend. You ain’t gonna win.”

Remy conceded. “Merci, DeWayne.” DeWayne waved his hand in a no-big-deal gesture and left.

Remy looked at the food, was tempted to fix himself a plate, but decided against it. The idea of sharing a quiet meal with Harper was too appealing. He didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes passed, and then Harper emerged from the bathroom, dressed in Remy’s borrowed clothes: A pair of soft flannel lounge pants and a tank top that showed off his exquisite chest and leanly muscled arms. His hair was clean, curling at the base of his neck and falling rakishly across his forehead. His long tail was fluffed out, and even his ears were perked up. His green eyes sparkled with delight. Remy tried not to stare.

“You hungry?” Remy asked, pointing to the food. He laughed at the look Harper gave him, like Remy was an idiot for even asking. The two of them sat at the little table and dove into the home-cooked meal.

“This is amazing,” Harper sighed as he finished off a second helping of Janey’s fried chicken. He licked his fingers one by one, not realizing the effect it had on Remy. That was part of Harper’s appeal; there was no artifice, nothing coy about him. Despite everything he’d been through, Harper still maintained a sweet innocence that Remy found both charming and incredibly sexy. Remy nodded his agreement, unable to take his eyes off Harper as the young man ate in a dainty, almost fussy, manner. There was a pronounced feline quality to Harper that went far beyond his physical traits, attractive as they were: the big green eyes with their ovoid pupils, the fur-covered ears and thick, long tail that reached almost to his feet, and even now moved lazily back and forth. Moreso, Remy could see it in the languid way Harper moved, how his muscles rippled beneath his smooth skin, the tilt of his head when he listened to Remy speak. Everything about Harper reminded him of a young panther, cautious and curious, quietly fierce, seemingly aloof but unquestionably lonely. And beneath all that, Remy could sense long-buried rage. Harper might seem tame, but Remy knew better; there was something feral, definitely dangerous, hidden deep down inside Harper. What it would take to let it loose, Remy could only speculate.

“Remy? What does ‘sha’ mean? And...um…‘peh-tee’?” Harper asked, shy.

Remy grinned. “Dat’s French, honey. We speak it in Louisiana,” he explained. “Cher means ‘dear’ and petit, dat means ‘little one’. Hope you don’t mind.”

“I like it, Remy. I really do,” Harper said, blushing just a little. Remy felt his heart skip a beat. There was no denying now their mutual attraction, that sexual spark between them.

“Glad you approve...cher.”

Harper leaned back in his chair and gave Remy a small, closed-lipped smile, drowsily content. Remy figured that this was probably the first time in years that Harper had felt so at ease. He wanted nothing more at that moment then to pull Harper into his arms and hold him close. Harper sensed this, and, feeling bold, took Remy’s hand in his. Without taking his eyes off him, Harper gently kissed Remy’s palm, then pressed his cheek there. Remy felt a rush of emotions from Harper, and in that moment, any doubts he had disappeared.

“Come to bed wit’ me, petit?” Remy asked softly. Harper nodded and kissed Remy’s palm again.

Remy stood, helped Harper to his feet, and led him to the bed. They settled in, and Harper curled up next to him, his head resting on Remy’s shoulder. Remy pulled him close, holding him tight, loving the feel of Harper’s warm body wrapped around his. Almost absentmindedly, Remy began to gently stroke Harper’s back, his fingers sliding up and down the knobs of his spine, stopping from time to time to tickle the nape of his neck and run his fingers through Harper’s thick hair. He felt Harper’s entire body relax, his breathing coming slow and regular. He made a charming little sound, like a sleepy chirp, content, and nuzzled Remy’s neck.

And then the most amazing thing happened: Harper began to purr. For a moment, Remy was afraid to even breathe, for fear of disturbing him in some way, afraid that the wonderful sound that Harper was making would stop. Harper sighed heavily and curled forward, purring even louder, as if to encourage Remy’s touch.

“Ah, Harper, you so sweet, baby,” Remy whispered. He kissed the top of Harper’s head, earning him another little smile.

Harper slid his hand under Remy’s shirt and ran his fingers across Remy’s chest and down his flat belly. Remy groaned, loving the way Harper touched him with his elegant, long-fingered hand, slow and sensual. He felt Harper’s desire, and for a moment he forgot everything but the beautiful young man in his arms. Nothing existed except the two of them.

“Remy,” Harper sighed. Remy had never heard his name spoken like a prayer before. He dipped his head and pressed his lips to Harper’s, his hands moving greedily over that gorgeous feline body. Harper groaned and began to purr again, much to Remy’s delight.

Before Remy took things any farther, he had to ask Harper one important question: “You sure about dis, sweetheart?” Remy asked, kissing Harper’s neck. Unexpected tears welled up in Harper’s eyes.

“I’ve never...not ever before...wanted someone, just for myself,” Harper whispered. “I want this, Remy. I want you. I want to know what it is to be free, to be able to choose.” A tear spilled down his cheek and quickly, Remy kissed it away.

“You promise me one t’ing, mon petit,” Remy said, taking Harper’s face in his hands. “If you change your mind, if you wanna stop, you tell me. I don’t want you doing anyt’ing you don’t want. If you get scared, you tell me.”

Harper looked at Remy with such open, naked longing that it nearly took his breath away.

“I’ve never wanted anything more, Remy. From the moment I saw you, I knew that all I wanted was to be here, like this, with you.”

Remy, touched by Harper’s words, kissed him again, deeply, his tongue exploring the sweetness of Harper’s mouth. Harper returned the kiss with surprising passion, plundering Remy’s mouth, and began pulling at his clothes. Soon, they were both nude, their bodies tangled together.

“Ah, Harper, mon amour,” Remy sighed. He knew without asking what Harper wanted. He rolled Harper over onto his stomach, took a moment to admire the view. Harper’s ass was incredible, perfectly rounded and firm, and Remy couldn’t help but press a kiss to each cheek.

“Mmm...Harper...you hot hot, baby!” Remy said, amazed at how responsive Harper was to his every touch.

“Please,” Harper whispered as Remy caressed his ass. He spread his legs and arched his back, lifting his rear up in an inviting manner. Gently, Remy pressed his palm to the small of Harper’s back, holding him still, then carefully slid one finger inside him. Harper responded immediately, grinding his slim hips against the sheets in beautiful frustration. Just watching the sensual way Harper moved sent a sexual thrill rocketing through Remy’s body.

“Petit, you have any idea how amazing dis looks?” Remy asked as he slowly moved his finger in and out. Harper whimpered and thrust back against Remy’s hand. Chuckling, Remy slid another finger inside, then, when he thought Harper was ready, he added a third. Harper groaned in response.

“Yes, Remy, just like that!” Harper’s body rocked, matching the rhythm of Remy’s fingers. “Oh fuck yes! Remy, please, please!” Impatient now, Remy flipped Harper back over. Harper’s cock was hard and straining upwards. Remy, too, was just as excited; a jewel of pre-cum glistened on the head of his cock.

“You ready for me, baby?” Remy asked, his voice low and husky. Harper responded by wrapping his legs around Remy’s waist, drawing him close. Remy groaned softly.

“Want you, Remy. Want you so much,” Harper cooed. He took hold of Remy’s cock and began stroking it, spreading as much of the precum along the shaft and head as he could. He looked up at Remy through his thick lashes and smiled. “Nice,” he said, “Absolutely lovely, Remy.”

Remy saw how Harper was looking at him, like he wanted to devour him, and made a sound that was half-way between a growl and a moan. Harper laughed, low and sexy.

“Mmm...you feel like velvet covered marble, Remy” Harper sighed, still stroking Remy’s cock with one hand, while the other cupped Remy’s balls and squeezed gently. Remy began to pant, thrusting his hips in time with Harper’s strokes, his hands buried in that rich chestnut hair of his.

“Can’t take much more o’ dis, baby. Wanna be inside you so bad,” Remy said hotly. He settled himself between those long legs and pressed his cock against Harper’s ass, guiding himself into that hot, secret part of him. It was a struggle to keep himself from slamming into Harper like some crazed animal, he was so excited. He wanted to be sure not to hurt him. It was important to Remy that it be just as pleasurable - if not more so - for Harper, especially knowing that in the past, Harper hadn’t had a choice in the matter. Remy suspected that no one had ever cared before whether or not it was good for him, always taking and never giving, and he was determined to show Harper what it was like to have someone put him first.

“Ah baby, you feel so incredible,” Remy whispered in Harper’s ear as he pushed his cock deep inside him. He loved how hot and tight Harper was, and soon the two were moving in unison, holding close to one another.

“Please, oh please, Remy, harder, fuck me harder,” Harper begged. He was so close; his cock, trapped deliciously between their hard stomachs, twitched. Remy knew Harper wasn’t going to last much longer. Neither was he. He gave Harper what he wanted and thrust into him hard and fast. When he felt Harper’s body tighten around him, felt his hot cum on his belly, that was all it took, and Remy exploded inside him with a triumphant cry. And when Harper cried out Remy’s name in response, it was like being reborn, for both of them.

It took a long time for both of them to settle down, for their breathing and heartbeats to finally return to normal. Remy held Harper’s trembling body close, whispering sweet words in his ear. Harper didn’t understand what he was saying, but he didn’t care. He loved the sound of Remy’s voice. They lay there for a while, Remy still on top of Harper, both drowsing happily, basking in their shared joy.

Finally, Remy propped himself up on his forearms and smiled down at Harper. “I take it you got no complaints, eh petit?”

Harper gave him a lazy smile. “None that come to mind,” he sighed, kissing Remy’s chest. He could taste the salt of his sweat, and breathed in deep, enjoying Remy’s sweet, musky scent. “This is good, isn’t it?”

Remy smiled, pleased. “Oui, petit, dis is most certainly good.” He rolled over and drew Harper against him, spooning behind him. He pressed a kiss to Harper’s neck. Harper began to purr softly, and they both fell asleep, content.


	4. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remy and Harper continue to explore their new relationship, and discover truths about one another. Harper discovers the joy of freedom, and the dangers of the world.

Remy woke to find himself alone in the bed. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand; it was just after 6 AM, still an hour until sunrise. Like Harper, Remy could see quite well in the dark, and he had no trouble spotting Harper sitting quietly by the cold fireplace. Remy threw back the covers, slipped on his pajama bottoms and sat down next to him on the old loveseat.

“What you sittin’ here in de dark for, honey?” Remy asked, his voice soft. Harper didn’t even acknowledge him, his gaze fixed on nothing. Worried now, Remy touched Harper’s shoulder. Harper jumped, startled, and shook his head as if to clear the fog from his brain.

“Jesus, Remy, you scared the shit out of me,” Harper said, laughing nervously. He hugged himself with his arms.

“I could say de same t’ing about you, cher. You were awful far away just now.” Remy reached over and turned on the little lamp next to the loveseat, filling the room with a soft, amber light.

“Just thinking, Remy.” Harper shrugged. He seemed reluctant to talk, so Remy decided to just sit with him. After a while, Harper reached over and took Remy’s hand in his. “I guess I’m a little surprised you...that you want to be with me.”

Remy looked shocked. “Why would you say dat, baby?”

“Well, considering my past. I mean, I think there’s a word for what I am. A few words.” He gave that odd little laugh again.

“Quoi? Goddamnit, Harper, you had no choice in what was done ta you. Besides, none o’ dat changes how I feel about you, what we got between us.” Remy took Harper’s hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the knuckles.

Harper cocked his head to one side. “And what _is_ this between us, then? It confuses me. That’s what I’ve been sitting here trying to figure out. I think...I think it’s love, but I just don’t know. I’ve never loved anyone before.”

“I don’t know what dis is exactly...I ain’t one ta do dat whole ‘love at first sight’ business, but I do know one t’ing: I got real deep feelings for you, Harper.” Remy paused and looked closely at him, trying to find the right words. “Hell, baby, gimme a couple more days, and I know I’m gonna love you wit’ everyt’ing I got.”

Harper smiled. “Yeah. That’s how I’m feeling, too. And it scares the hell out of me, Remy.”

Remy laughed at that. “It’s supposed ta, Harper.”

Harper grinned and grabbed Remy, kissing him hard. “You’re an idiot, Remy LeBeau.”

Remy pounced, pushing Harper down onto the cushions, stretching his body out over his. “You’re probably right.” He gave Harper a wicked look. “Hey, you wanna soak in de tub wit’ me?”

“Hmm. You going to behave yourself?” Harper asked as Remy nuzzled his neck. Remy sat up a bit and grinned at him.

“Nope.”

Harper raised an eyebrow at that. “I figured you had ulterior motives.” He sighed, as if mulling over the idea of more sexy time with Remy. “I suppose I could join you in a bath, if you insist.”

Remy flashed him a confident _I knew I’d get my way_ look. Harper laughed and let Remy lead him to the bathroom, where they did not behave. At all.

********

“I’m starving,” Harper said as he towelled off. Remy was watching him with interest. “No, Remy. Not again. You’re insatiable, you know that?”

“I blame you,” Remy said, smiling as he got dressed. “I’ll go see what DeWayne got cookin’. He usually puts up a good breakfast for de guests.”

Harper tried to hide his sudden anxiety about being left alone; the last thing he wanted was for Remy to think he was becoming some kind of clingy neurotic. Despite his attempt to conceal his fear, Remy picked up on it.

“Just gonna be gone for a few, baby. I’ll be right back.” Remy gave Harper a quick kiss. “Lock de door behind me.”

Harper nodded, and set the deadbolt once Remy was gone. He pulled on his old jeans and a t-shirt borrowed from Remy. Hating himself for it, he began to pace nervously. He felt cooped up all of a sudden, almost claustrophobic. His anxiety began to build, and, throwing caution to the wind, he opened the door and stepped outside.

He was stunned by the wild beauty of the place. Just a few feet away from the front door of the cabin was a meadow, in full Spring bloom, a riot of colors. Harper thought he’d never seen anything so beautiful. Laughing with the sheer joy of it, he ran into the meadow and threw himself down, laying in the warm morning sun, arms outstretched.

“This is what it is to be free,” he said to himself. He shut his eyes and inhaled deeply, enjoying the varied scents, basking in the sun’s warmth, and listening to the chitter of birds.

“Well aren’t you a sight,” a voice from above said. Startled, Harper sat up and squinted in the early morning light. Before him stood a man, studying him closely. He was tall, around six foot five, heavily muscled and practically oozing power. He seemed pleasantly surprised, like someone who had received an unexpected gift. In this case, that gift was Harper.

“Glad I decided to take a morning stroll,” the man continued. “I didn’t figure I’d find such a gorgeous young man here in this backwater hole, just mine for the taking.”

Harper bared his teeth in warning and hissed. “Get away from me.” He didn’t like the way the stranger was looking at him, like he was starving and Harper was something good to eat.

“Easy now,” the man said, holding up his hands. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m a regular here at the Pines; everyone knows me.” He squatted down beside Harper and held out his hand. “My name’s Miko. What’s your’s? I’d like to know, considering we’re going to be friends. Very _close_ friends.”

Harper eyed him warily. Something about Miko, the way he talked to him, put him on edge. He looked around for Remy, but did not see him. He knew he would have to handle Miko on his own, and hoped he had the courage to defend himself from the man’s unwanted advances.

“That’s none of your business,” Harper snapped. “And I don’t want your company.”

Miko frowned, angry that Harper had refused his questionable offer of companionship. “You’re not a very nice person, are you? Someone should teach you some manners, my pretty little friend.” He narrowed his eyes. “You need to show a little more respect when someone is gracious to you. Now, how about we try this one more time?” He flashed an ugly smile, then suddenly reached out and grabbed Harper’s arms. With surprising strength, he yanked Harper to his feet, pulling him close. Before Harper could stop him, Miko’s hands were touching every part of his body, a rough and painful molestation. At first, Harper didn’t know what to do, stunned by Miko’s humiliating violation. Harper’s confusion passed quickly, and when his assailant tried to kiss him, Harper thwarted his attempt by wriggling out of his arms. Furious, Harper hissed at him again.

 _“Don’t touch me, you son of a bitch,”_ Harper warned. Thanks to the confidence that Remy had given him, he knew it was his right to reject Miko’s unwanted attention, knew, too, that he was no longer anyone’s property. “I don’t know where you get off thinking you can lay hands on me, but you better not do it again, you understand me?”

Miko seemed surprised and more than a little angry that Harper had talked back to him. He wasn’t used to being told NO by anyone, male or female, and he was set on teaching Harper a lesson. He reached for Harper again, determined to take what he wanted, regardless.

“I don’t think so, sweetheart,” Miko snarled. Before Harper could stop him, Miko managed to pin Harper’s arms behind his back. Harper struggled to free himself, but to no avail. Despite his mutant strength, he was no match for the larger, more powerful man that now held him captive.  Harper found himself seized by a familiar sense of powerlessness, and was ashamed by it. Miko knew Harper was afraid, and loved the  thrill it gave him.  

“Please, let me go,” Harper whispered.

“Not until I get what I want. Now be a good boy, and play nice.” Miko laughed cruelly and ground his lips against Harper’s. Excited by Harper’s terror, Miko pushed him to his knees. He unzipped the fly of his pants and grabbed a handful of Harper’s hair. There was no mistaking Miko’s intentions.

“Please don’t do this to me,” Harper begged, reverting to the submissive behavior that had been part of his brutal training during Obedience School. The whole thing was just too much like what his owners had done to him so many times and the thought of it happening again made him sick to his stomach.

Miko was panting in anticipation as he pulled out his cock. When Harper turned away in disgust, Miko struck him across the face, splitting his lip and bloodying his nose.  Despite this, Harper continued to struggle. Angry now, Miko seized Harper by the throat and squeezed. Harper was on the verge of losing consciousness when he heard the sound of a familiar and much-loved voice.

_“Get your fucking hands off him!”_

Miko whirled around, saw that Remy was right behind him, and blanched. Remy looked positively lethal. Seeing Harper on his knees, blood on his face, bruising on his neck, it took every bit of control Remy had not to kill Miko right then and there.

“Didn’t know you were staying here, Remy,” Miko said, nervous, and let go of Harper. He quickly zipped up his fly and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “This isn’t what it looks like, I swear. Just a little fun between me and my new friend. The little whore offered himself to me; I was just obliging him. You know how it is.”

That was it. Remy had heard enough. He struck Miko across the mouth, an open-handed blow that was as painful as it was insulting.

“You watch your mouth, Miko,” Remy growled through clenched teeth. “I know all about your dirty little habits, homme, so don’t t’ink you gonna explain dis away.”

“Don’t see where this is any of your business, LeBeau,” Miko shot back, wiping the blood from his lip.

“Dat’s where you wrong,” Remy countered. He shoved Miko aside and wrapped his arm around Harper’s waist, pulling him close.

“You alright, cher?” Remy asked, knowing that Harper was anything but. Harper hugged himself with his arms, a gesture Remy knew meant that Miko had, indeed, harmed the younger man in more ways than just the physical.

“I tried to stop him, Remy, I swear,” Harper whispered, as if it was his fault what Miko had done to him, that he had done something to encourage Miko’s attack.  That Harper blamed himself only added to Remy’s anger.

“I oughta rip you apart for what you done, Miko, you nasty little fucker,” Remy snarled. His entire body was thrumming with a wild fury. “Dis here is mon bien-aimé, le coeur de mon coeur, and I don’t take real kindly ta you puttin’ your filt’y hands on him.” Wanting to reassure Harper, he pressed a gentle, loving kiss to his cheek. Harper leaned into him, leaving no doubt as to their relationship. He gave Miko a challenging look, as if daring him to argue with Remy.

Miko started to protest, but then thought better of it. “Didn’t know this sweet thing belonged to you, LeBeau,” Miko muttered, as if that somehow excused the fact that he’d tried to take Harper against his will.

“He ain’t my property, you sick fuck,” Remy snapped. “I t’ink you should get your shit and clear outta here before I kick your rapist ass. Again.”

Miko paled noticeably, but didn’t argue. “You always were an arrogant prat, you know that, LeBeau?”

Remy laughed at him in a way that left Miko feeling further humiliated.

“Been called worse t’ings by better people den you. Now, get de hell outta here, Miko, and be glad I’m lettin’ you go in one piece. I still got me a mind to remove certain parts o’ your anatomy dat you fond of.” The smile faded from Remy’s face, and he jabbed his finger hard against Miko’s chest.  “You crossed a line here just now; next time, I ain’t gonna be so forgiving, tu sais?”

Miko knew that Remy wasn’t prone to idle threats and hurried off to his cabin to pack. Not until Miko was gone did Remy finally relax.

“You sure you okay, honey?” Remy asked, holding Harper close. He touched the bruises on Harper’s neck and winced.

“I’m alright, just a little rattled,” Harper said, clearly shaken by the episode. He couldn’t help but think about what Miko would have done to him if Remy hadn’t intervened.

As if reading his thoughts, Remy sought to reassure Harper. “I’m sorry dat he hurt you, dat I wasn’t here ta protect you, cher. I never shoulda left you alone.” He placed his finger beneath Harper’s chin and lifted his face so that he could look directly at him. “I promise, I won’t ever let anyone do dat ta you again, mon amour.”

Harper blinked back tears. “You’re like my guardian angel, Remy.” As soon as he said it, he realized how corny it sounded and blushed. “God, that was pretty bad, wasn’t it? I’m turning into a complete nelly around you, you know.”

Remy shook his head. “You so sweet, baby,” he  said, smiling warmly at his lover. He took Harper’s hand in his and together they walked back to their cabin.

“Who the hell was that, anyway?” Harper asked, dropping down onto the bed. “Pretty obvious you two have a history.”

Remy sat down beside Harper and drew him into the safety of his arms. He pressed a gentle kiss to Harper’s brow and smiled at him. There was no mistaking the love Remy felt for him.

“Dat evil fuck is Miko James, makes his living off stealing identities, ripping off unsuspecting folks, even sellin’ stolen IDs ta anyone who needs ta hide who dey really are, instead o’ just dem paying de money for a good forgery like de rest of us. Me, I can’t abide someone who makes his money dat way,” Remy made a little sound of disgust; he considered identity theft to be a dishonorable way of making a living.

“Real nasty piece of work, him. Don’t know why DeWayne lets him stay here, considering dat little weasel got him a bad reputation. Miko don’t know how to take no for an answer.”

Harper looked chagrined. “Sorry about leaving the cabin, Remy; I should have known better. It’s just that I needed to get out for a little while.”

“Shush. You gotta stop apologizin’ for everyt’ing, baby. You got every right ta do what you want wit’out some asshole like Miko roughin’ you up. But we gotta work on your self defense a bit. I know you got it in you ta tear it up if you need ta.” Remy smiled gently at him. “Now, come eat some o’ dis good grub DeWayne’s fixed up for us.” He pointed to the little table where he’d spread out breakfast for them. Harper grinned.

“Don’t have to ask me twice.”

After breakfast, Remy gathered up the dishes and returned them to DeWayne. He gave his friend a roll of cash and a list of items he needed, including new clothes for Harper and some other things.  A few hours later, DeWayne’s son dropped all of it off at their cabin.

“What’s all this?” Harper asked, surprised at the number of packages piled up on the floor.

Remy grinned, and handed the bags and a shoebox to Harper.

“Just a few t’ings you need. Hope everyt’ing fits, baby,” Remy said, satisfied.

Harper sat down on the floor and dug through the bags. Remy had been very specific about what he wanted for Harper, and he wasn’t disappointed with the results.

There were a couple pairs of jeans, as well as several shirts and an assortment of socks and underwear. Along with the clothes, there was a sleekly-tailored black leather jacket made of the softest kidskin, and matching gloves. Inside the box was a pair of high-quality leather motorcycle boots - the kind that reached mid-calf, plenty of buckles, in a neo-Goth style that Harper loved, meant to replace his battered Doc Martens. Another bag contained a variety of personal care items, and a duffel bag to put all of it in. Harper seemed almost overwhelmed by it all.

“Remy, you didn’t have to do this,” Harper whispered, looking through the gifts. He was clearly pleased by all of it, and impressed by the thought Remy had put into each item. “There’s no way I can pay you back…”

Remy grinned. “Hush y’self. I got more money den I know what ta do wit’. Now try somet’ing on, cher.”  He loved giving presents, and Harper’s almost child-like joy at receiving them was payment enough. “DeWayne’s wife Janey, she tailored does jeans and underwear special for you. Your tail should fit t’rough de hole she put in de ass o’ dem wit’out much problem. Hope so, anyway.”

Harper laughed at that. “Thank you for all of this. You spoil me, Remy.” Grinning with delight, he picked out the long-sleeved black jersey and found that it fit perfectly. He chose a pair of black boxer briefs, which Remy seemed particularly appreciative of. Next he wiggled into the jeans (his tail fit just fine, to Remy’s relief), delighting in the butter-soft feel of them, then pulled on a pair of socks and the boots.

“Well?” Harper asked, arms outstretched. “Will I do?”

Remy was looking at him with a critical eye. “Turn around.” Harper obliged. Remy whistled low. “Damn, baby. Your ass is a work o’ art, you know dat?”

Harper turned back around. He was actually blushing. “I’m glad you approve, love.”

Remy experienced a sudden and intense rush of emotion. He felt the sting of unexpected tears, and blinked them away. It was the first time Harper had used a term of endearment with him, and he was surprised at how much it meant to him.

Harper, sensing this, went right to him and sat on his lap. He kissed him softly, his lips brushing against Remy’s cheeks, his eyelids, his brow.

“You’re beautiful, Remy,” Harper whispered, tracing his finger along the line of Remy’s jaw. “I think I’m beginning to know what love is.”

Remy nearly melted. “I mighta underestimated how fast I’m fallin’ in love wit’ you, baby.”  He held Harper close, and was soothed by the sound of his purring. They stayed that way for a long time, wrapped up in each other’s arms, drowsing, content. After a while, Harper stirred. Remy was sound asleep, and, careful not to wake him, Harper climbed off his lap and grabbed his old backpack. He dumped out the contents, and, finding a blank page in his battered sketchbook, he began to draw his sleeping lover. He was just finishing when Remy woke.

“Whatcha doin’ dere, Boo?” Remy asked, stretching his long, lean body. Harper just smiled. Curious, Remy sat down on the bed next to Harper. He looked at what Harper had drawn, and was stunned at its quality. The sketch wasn’t the typical still-life. It had a soft, expressionist quality to it, capturing the light perfectly.  “Baby, dis is amazing. Mind if I look at de rest of it?”

Harper smiled shyly and handed him the sketchbook. Remy looked through it, and his admiration for Harper’s talent grew. “You got you a real gift, Harper.” He closed the book and handed it back to Harper. Seeing the other items on the bed, he picked up the stuffed mouse. It was old, a bit threadbare and missing one of its button eyes.

“My mother gave me that,” Harper said softly, biting his lip; it was obvious the subject was a painful one for him, and Remy didn’t press him any further. Harper began fiddling with the rest of his belongings. “These things, they’re my whole life, Remy. Pretty sad, huh?”

Remy wrapped his hand around Harper’s. “Tell me what all dis is, Harper.”

Harper was surprised by Remy’s request, but indulged him. One by one, he told Remy the story behind each item.

“I was in Obedience School when I found this penny,” Harper said, holding it up. “I kept it because I’d heard pennies were lucky. And see the date? That’s when I was born.” He stopped and picked up the photo. “This is me and Mr. Roddy, right after he bought me. I don’t know why I kept it; I was pretty pissed off at the time.” He laughed bitterly, then grabbed the copy of _To Kill A Mockingbird._

“This book, Mr. Roddy read it to me, and I just...I really identified with it. Maybe one of these days I’ll learn how to read it myself.” He paused and shrugged. “These other things, I picked up after I ran away. The marbles I found in a little junk store. I just think they’re pretty. This is from a movie I saw. I only went into the theatre to get out of the rain, but I liked it. The scarf...this sweet young girl gave it to me when I was stuck in another downpour in Louisiana. I think she knew I was a mutant somehow. Maybe she was one, too. Anyway, they were all my worldly possessions, until you decided to play Father Christmas and bought all those wonderful things for me.”

Remy was suddenly struck by how cruel life had been for Harper. He pulled him into his arms and held him tight. “I promise you, mon amour, I’m gonna make up for everyt’ing you shoulda had. And I don’t just mean de material t’ings.”

“I have you, love. That’s all I need.”  Harper nuzzled Remy’s neck and began purring softly. Remy felt a lump form in his throat.

“Je t’aime, Harper, mon petit,” he whispered. “Je t’aime.”

_Night…_

Remy tucked his hands behind his head, the sweat of their lovemaking cooling on his body. Beside him, Harper was stretched out on his side, running his fingers up and down Remy’s chest. He had a very satisfied smile on his face.

“Still no complaints, mon cher?” Remy asked, taking Harper’s hand and kissing the palm. Harper laughed.

“Well, now that you mention it…” Harper said, looking serious.

Remy propped himself up on his elbows. “What?”

Again, that _cat that ate the canary_ smile from Harper. “I’m going to be walking funny in the morning.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure I got me some claw marks on my back,” Remy countered. He sat up and craned his head over his shoulder, trying to survey the damage. “You need ta clip dem, cher.”

Harper gave a very unmanly giggle. “I’m afraid you have a bite mark on your neck, too. Sorry about that.”

Remy raised his eyebrows at that. “You animal.” Then, realizing that Harper might take offense at that, he quickly apologized. “Desole, petit. Dat probably wasn’t de best choice of words, neh?”

“Don’t be dumb, Remy. It’s part of who I am. And I can’t complain about the benefits: I’m agile, great reflexes, excellent spatial awareness, and I’m fast. Real fast. I’m strong, too, and I can see, smell and hear things that humans can’t. Oh, and I can jump and climb as well as any cat.” Harper beamed with pride. It wasn’t like him to brag, and Remy found it charming.

“You always land on your feet when you fall?”

Harper tried to look offended. “Not that I make a habit of falling, but yes, I always land on my feet.”  He reached up and laid his palm against Remy’s cheek. “You know, Remy LeBeau, you are such a beautiful man. I still can’t believe I’m here with you, like this. Part of me wants to forget everything and stay here, just you and me.”

“I’d like dat too, baby, but I know you wanna do de right t’ing, and stop dis Society.”

Harper frowned. “You think the X-Men can do it, Remy? These people...they have so much money, so much power…” his voice drifted off. “I’m afraid they’re just going to get away with it all.”

Remy pressed a kiss to Harper’s brow. “We’ll get dem, honey. Don’t you fret.” He pulled Harper into his arms and stroked his back. “No matter what, we’ll stop dem.”

Harper curled up to Remy and laid his head on his shoulder. “I believe you.” He yawned and shut his eyes. Sleep took him fast, and it wasn’t long before Remy joined him.


	5. Close Calls and Phone Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Society Hunters finally catch up to Harper and Remy, and Remy decides it's time to call in the Cavalry. Harper's story is finally revealed to X-Man team leader Kitty Pryde, and plans are made to free Harper's people.

It was just before 5am when Harper woke with a start.  He began to cry out, but was stopped by a hand clamped firmly to his mouth.  He felt a moment of panic before realizing it was Remy.

“Shh, petit,” Remy whispered hoarsely, removing his hand.  “What is it, baby, what woke you up?”

Even in sleep, Harper’s keen sense of hearing had picked up the sound of footsteps outside their cabin.  He counted two, one heavier than the other.  Men.  

“Hunters,” Harper whispered back.

“You sure?”  Remy was already reaching for his clothes.  He dressed quickly, as did Harper.

“Positive.”  Harper’s eyes were wide with fear.  

Remy inched toward the door.  He peered out the peephole, but saw nothing.  He started to open it, when Harper cried out.

“Remy, NO!  They have a Hellhound with them!”

Harper’s warning came a second too late.  The door burst open, and a large dog leapt onto Remy.  But it was no regular dog; this beast was huge, jet black with gleaming yellow eyes, and a large mouth brimming with sharp teeth.  A mutant animal, bred to track down runaways.  Harper, like all Pets, lived in terror of it.

Remy reacted instinctively, grabbing the Hound’s thick metal collar and charging it with the kinetic energy he controlled. He braced his feet against the beast’s chest and kicked hard, throwing it off him just seconds before the charged collar exploded.  It wasn’t enough to kill it, but it sent the beast, badly wounded, yelping and scurrying away.  Remy jumped to his feet, ready to face his attackers.  What he hadn’t expected was to be taken down by something as simple as a bullet.

The round slammed into his chest, knocking him back.  He lay on the floor, groaning, feeling the blood filling his lung.  

“That was easy,” the bigger of the two Hunters said as he stepped over Remy.  He was eyeing Harper with a cruel delight.  “There you are, you stupid fuck.  You’ve led us on a merry little chase.”  He had a collar and leash in his hand, and was swinging it back and forth, smiling coldly.  “Now come here, boy.”

Harper, seeing Remy hurt, seeing the blood spilling from his body, felt that hidden rage come back. He heard a strange ringing in his ears, and his mouth was flooded with a metallic taste as adrenaline surged through his body.

“Fuck you,” Harper growled, then hissed loudly.  While the Hunters looked on in shock, Harper leapt.  He moved fast, faster than either of them expected.  In one fluid motion he cleared the bed, slicing his claws across the bigger man’s neck, laying it open.  Both the carotid artery and jugular vein were completely severed.  Gurgling, grasping at his torn throat, the man dropped to his knees.

The second Hunter, panicked by Harper’s unexpected attack, shot at him, but the round went wild, and before he could aim again, Harper was on him, his sharp teeth sunk deep into the man’s neck, his powerful jaws crushing his larynx, slowly suffocating him.  

With a big cat’s grace, Harper gently lowered the man’s body to the ground.  He kept his jaws firmly latched to the Hunter’s neck until he stopped struggling altogether.  After making certain he was dead, Harper glanced at the first Hunter, could see that he, too was dead, then went to Remy.

“Remy!” Harper gathered Remy into his arms.  “Ah, Remy, Remy! Please, talk to me, please!”

Remy coughed, spraying blood across Harper’s chest.  “Go...Manager’s Office...Get...DeWayne.  Tell him...bring Janey.  Hurry, petit.”

Harper kissed Remy’s forehead.  “I’ll be right back.  I love you, Remy.”

Remy could only nod, his teeth clenched against the pain.

Harper stepped outside and looked around.  A few feet from the door was the badly injured Hound.  It lifted it’s head and growled weakly.  Harper carefully stepped around it then ran the short distance to the Manager’s Office.  He slammed the door open, startling the older man.

“What the hell is going on?” DeWayne asked, jumping to his feet; from the look on his face, it was obvious he’d heard the  gunshots.  He was armed with the 12 gauge shotgun he kept behind the desk and pointed it right at Harper, finger on the trigger, ready to defend his family.

Harper raised his hands.  They were slick with blood.  “PLEASE!  Remy’s been shot!  He said for you to bring Janey!  PLEASE HELP HIM!”

DeWayne lowered the shotgun, but did not put it down.  “I knew that boy was in some serious trouble. Where the shooter?”

“Dead.  Both dead.  I killed them,” Harper said breathlessly.  “This is all my fault...they were coming for  _ me.” _

“No time to fuss about that now.  Wait right here.”  DeWayne went into the back room and came out with a woman.  Harper stared at her.  She was tall, willowy, with light blue skin and thick silver hair that fell in waves down her back.  A mutant.  She gave Harper a tentative smile of recognition.  He managed a brave one in return.

“This is Janey.  She’s a healer,” DeWayne said.  He took his wife’s hand and with Harper they ran back to Remy’s cabin.  

“Jesus God…” DeWayne whispered, seeing the carnage.  Janey ignored it, stepping over the bodies to get to Remy.  Gracefully, she knelt down beside him.  Remy was barely conscious, and his breathing was obviously strained.  He’d lost a lot of blood.

Janey laid her hands over the wound and closed her eyes.  A warm glow spread over Remy’s body.  Harper watched in fascination as the bleeding stopped and the wounds - both the entrance and exit - slowly closed and healed.  After several tense minutes, Remy opened his eyes, drew a deep breath, and smiled at Janey.

“Hey dere, Boo,” he said softly.  

Janey grinned and nodded, taking Remy’s hand and pressing it to her cheek.  She then looked at Harper and inclined her head.

“Janey says it’s alright, you can go to him now,” DeWayne said, touching Harper’s shoulder. Harper looked at DeWayne with an odd expression. “Janey don’t talk.”

Harper knelt down beside Remy and gently lifted him into a sitting position. Despite what he’d just seen, he needed to know for himself that Remy was alright.  He ran his hands over Remy’s chest and back, and was relieved to see that he was, indeed, whole again.

“Remy,” Harper said, his voice tight.  “I’m sorry Remy.”

“Ain’t not’ing you need be sorry for, petit,” Remy said, trying to reassure Harper.  He could see how the younger man was starting to shake.  “I t’ink maybe it’s time to call in de Cavalry.  Help me up, would you?”

With DeWayne’s help, Harper got Remy up and onto the bed. He was still frightfully pale. “Grab me my bag, Harper.”

Harper looked around, spied Remy’s bag over by the fireplace and handed it to him. Remy reached into one of the side pockets and retrieved a cell phone.  

“Gonna get dis all cleaned up, DeWayne. Sorry ‘bout bringing dis grief to your door, ami.”

“Jesus, Remy...you shoulda told me this was serious business you stuck in.”  DeWayne cut his eyes at Harper. “Some bad people looking for you, eh son?”

Harper bit his lower lip.  “Yes.”  He paused and looked at the bodies on the floor, amazed now at what he had done.  Realizing the enormity of it all, he sat down hard on the bed beside Remy.  “I killed them,” he said softly.  “I killed them.”

“Gonna be alright, petit,” Remy said, gently patting Harper’s hand.  “Now hush y’self while I do dis.”  

Harper sat quietly while Remy made his call.  Remy spoke to someone he called Kitty, gave her the barest of details, telling her only that he had with him a young mutant in danger, a couple of dead assassins and one big dying monster mutant dog, and asked for a ride.  Whatever Kitty said to him on the other end of the line made him chuckle softly.

“Oui, chère.  Always a fun time wit’ ole Gambit.  Merci, petite.  See you in a bit.”  Remy stuffed the cell phone back in his bag.  “My friends are coming.  We gonna get dis mess all cleaned up, DeWayne.”

DeWayne shook his head and actually laughed. “Life is always interesting whenever you’re around, Remy LeBeau.” He reached over and wrapped his arm around his wife’s waist. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to take Janey back home,” he said, meaning the little cabin behind the office.  “You know she don’t like being around a whole lotta folk.”

Remy stood slowly, waited a moment to make sure he wasn’t going to do a faceplant, then took Janey’s hand in his. “Merci, ma chère,” he whispered, then pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. She rewarded him with a brilliant smile and returned the kiss. After a moment, she inclined her head toward Harper and gave Remy a questioning glance.

“Don’t you worry none, Janey.  Gonna get him ta safety,” Remy reassured her. 

“C’mon, honey. Let’s get you home.  You need to rest,” DeWayne said softly.  Without another word, he led his wife out the door and down the path to their little house.

“So the X-Men are coming?”  Harper said, his voice soft.  He seemed unable to meet Remy’s eyes.  Remy, distracted by the fact that there were two horribly slaughtered men lying on the floor of his favorite hide-away,  made a little grunting sound.

“Mais, oui cher.”  Remy turned and looked at Harper.  “C’mon baby, go on now, get cleaned up de best you can.”

Harper nodded mutely and shuffled off to the bathroom.  A moment later, Remy heard him vomiting violently.  Remy went right to him, kneeling beside him, holding him as he puked, gently wiping the back of his neck with a cool washcloth.  When Harper was finally done, he sat back against the cool tile wall and pressed his hand to his forehead. Remy handed him a glass of water. Harper took it, rinsed his mouth, and spat into the toilet.

“Fuck…” Harper muttered softly.

Remy pulled him close. “You gonna be alright dere, Boo?”

“Never done anything like that before, Remy,” Harper whispered.  “Didn’t know I could.”

Remy took Harper’s face in his hands and kissed him.  “You did what you had ta, Harper.  I know you didn’t want ta, but sometimes you do what you gotta do ta survive.”  He stood and held out his hand.  Harper took it and let Remy pull him into his arms.  For a moment, they just stood there, holding each other, both still a little overwhelmed by the situation.

After, they cleaned themselves up, dressed, and packed up their belongings.  Harper was just pulling on his boots when he heard a rumbling sound above the cabin. 

“Our ride’s here, cher,” Remy said, grinning.  He threw the door open and stepped out, watching with relief as the Blackbird settled down in a clearing a few hundred yards away.  Harper joined him, eyes wide, as several people exited from the sleek aircraft:  Kitty Pryde, Iceman, Logan and Nightcrawler.

“Heard you were in some trouble, Gumbo,” Logan said, shaking Remy’s hand.  He looked over at Harper.  “This the kid?”  

“Dis is Harper.  Harper, dis is Logan.  Pretty girl here is Kitty - she runnin’ de show now. And dat’s Bobby and Kurt.”

They all looked at Harper with interest.  Kitty, seeing how uncomfortable Harper was, smiled at him.  “Hello, Harper.  I suspect you have quite a story for us.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Harper said, eyes down, obviously uncomfortable with all the scrutiny.

“What the hell is _ that _ thing?” Bobby asked, pointing at the dead dog.

“Hellhound,” Harper replied.  He shuddered hard. “Psychic mutant dogs.  The Hunters use them to track us.”

Logan shook his head.  “Jesus.”  He turned to Kitty.  “We better get this shit cleaned up and get the hell out of here before anyone else shows up looking for this kid.”

They moved quickly, putting the dead Hunters into body bags and on the Blackbird for later identification.  Next was a quick clean up of the cabin, removing all evidence of the violence that had played out there.  Last was the Hellhound.  A short argument ensued over who would handle the foul-smelling beast, with Logan and Remy finally volunteering to do the deed.

Everything done, they loaded up into the Blackbird for the short trip back to New York.  Kitty, at the helm, was tempted to begin peppering Remy and Harper with questions, but refrained.  It was obvious to everyone how frightened and traumatized Harper was, and interrogating him at the moment would probably only make it worse. Remy kept his arm around Harper’s hunched shoulders, cooing words of comfort in his ear.

Once they arrived at the school, Remy entrusted Harper to the affable Bobby, and went off to speak to Kitty and Logan privately in the Headmaster’s office.

“You sure he’s going to be okay with Bobby?” Kitty asked, looking skeptical.  She sat down wearily behind her desk and templed her fingers beneath her chin.

Remy waved his hand.  “Harper can handle Bobby. Probably charmin’ de socks off him right now.” He chuckled at the thought.

“So you gonna tell us what this is all about, Gumbo?” Logan asked, leaning up against the wall.  He crossed his arms over his powerful chest and sighed heavily.  

Remy took the locket from around his neck and handed it to Kitty.  “In dere is a flash drive.  It details everyt’ing about some organization called de Society.  Seems dey been trafficking in genetically altered mutants.  _  Humans buying and selling mutant slaves. _ ”  He paused and let that sink in. Kitty and Logan looked dumbfounded, but said nothing. Remy pressed on. “Harper’s last owner, he did all de investigation.  Guess he died o’ cancer a few weeks ago, but before he did, dat fool sent Harper on dis crazy errand ta get dis intel t’you.  I found him at a diner in de middle o’ bumfucked Mississippi, about ta get his ass beat by a bunch o’ good ole boys.  I was bringin’ him here when dose Hunters showed up at de cabin I rented for us.  Bastards got de jump on me wit’ dat nasty dog.  Managed ta get myself shot, too.”

Kitty raised an eyebrow at that.  “You seem alright for someone who was attacked by a giant monster mutt and shot, Remy.”

Remy shrugged.  “De owner o’ dat place, his wife is a mutant. A healer, she fixed me right up. We go back a ways.  Still, I’d be dead if it weren’t for Harper.”

“You wouldn’t have been almost killed if it weren’t for Harper,” Logan pointed out.  Remy gave him the stink-eye, but said nothing.

“Let me take a look at all this,” Kitty said, holding up the thumb drive. “Bring Harper back here in a little while. I want to talk to him.”

Remy frowned.  “Maybe you could give him a little bit ta get settled in, neh?”  He paused.  “Once you find out what dey done ta him, you gonna understand why you need ta tread carefully wit’ de boy.  Harper, his life ain’t been easy, and dat is an understatement.”

Kitty winced; she hadn’t considered Harper’s feelings.  “Alright.  Do what you need to do, Remy.  I’ll follow your lead on this, okay?”

“Merci, petite.” Remy stood and strode out of the Headmaster’s office.  It was obvious he was in a hurry to find Harper, wondering with only a little concern about whatever it was Bobby and Harper were up to.  After a short search, he found them in the kitchen, eating ice cream directly from a carton on the table.  Remy indulged himself and took a moment to watch the two of them, acting just like a couple of kids enjoying a secret treat.  He felt a warm rush of affection, seeing Harper like that.

Harper sensed Remy’s presence and looked up, a broad grin on his face. Remy couldn’t help but return that grin; it felt good knowing Harper was enjoying himself. 

“Bobby decided I needed cheering up, Remy. He said nothing makes you feel better than ice cream,” Harper said, before slipping another spoonful into his mouth.  

“ _ Chocolate _ ice cream,” Bobby corrected, brandishing his spoon.  “It has to be chocolate.”

Remy grabbed a spoon of his own and pulled a chair up beside Harper.  

“Gimme some o’ dat.”  

Bobby slid the carton toward Remy.  “You know it’s serious business when I share.”

“It’s true, petit,” Remy said, spooning some of the ice cream into his mouth.  “Bobby, he real funny about his ice cream.”

Harper laughed.  Remy thought it was like music, and the joyful sound of it made his heart leap.  He looked at his young lover and smiled a secret smile.  

Harper leaned over and pressed a kiss to Remy’s cheek.  Bobby sat back and watched the two of them, fascinated by the interaction. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on.  He tried to hide his surprise that Remy LeBeau had apparently taken a male lover, and didn’t seem the least bit shy about it.  He couldn’t wait to share the news with Northstar.  It had only been a short time since Bobby had finally come out of the closet, and one of the first people he’d told was the French-Canadian speedster.  This new development was sure to make Jean-Paul’s day. Especially since Jean-Paul had once told Bobby that he got the feeling Remy wasn’t very picky when it came to the gender of his lovers, something Bobby had scoffed at. No doubt Jean-Paul would crow about how bad Bobby’s gaydar was, though Bobby didn’t mind at all. He was one of the few X-Men who actually got along with the prickly man, and they had developed a close friendship.

Bobby was about to remark on it, when a voice stopped him dead.

“Well look what the cat drug in.”

Remy felt his heart skip a beat. It was Rogue.  He had no idea how long she had been watching them, but from the odd look on her face, it was clear that she’d come to the same realization that Bobby had.  She was trying to look casual while staring daggers at Harper. Harper, being the sensitive empath that he was, immediately shrunk back from her. He had no idea why this woman seemed so upset, both at him and Remy. She radiated anger and hurt and betrayal all at the same time.

“Awkward,” Bobby whispered, sliding his chair back from the table. He wasn’t sure if he was going to have to come between Remy and Rogue.  Theirs had been a complicated relationship, to say the least.

“What’re you doin’ here?” Remy asked.  He reached over and took Harper’s hand in his and held tight.  He stared hard at Rogue, daring her to say something.

“A girl can come visit her friends, can’t she?”  Rogue tossed her hair.  “What are  _ you  _ doin’ here, swamp rat? And who’s your cute friend?” She reached out and pinched Harper’s ear.

Harper bristled.  Without thinking, he bared his sharp feline teeth and hissed at her.  Rogue drew her hand back, quick.

“Keep your hands to yourself, Anna Marie.  He don’t like people he don’t know touchin’ him,” Remy snarled.

Rogue looked stunned by Remy’s response.  “Damn, Remy!  What is he, your _ pet _ ?” She turned her gaze on Harper. “Are you Remy’s pet, pretty kitty?” she teased.

Harper flinched and made a strange, strangled sound.  Unbidden, tears sprang to his eyes.  “Don’t you call me that,” he whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger.  His face had gone pale, except for the mottled flame that rose to his cheeks.

Bobby looked from Rogue, to Harper, and then to Remy. When he saw the look of fury on the Cajun’s face, he knew he had to step in. He got up and took Rogue by the arm.

“Time to go,” Bobby said firmly.

Rogue pulled her arm free. “I don’t need you telling me what to do, Bobby Drake. Especially not someone like _ you _ .”  Her meaning clear, she stormed from the kitchen.  Bobby let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He wondered how Northstar put up with it, the constant snide comments about his sexuality. 

“Merci, Bobby. Didn’t mean for you ta get caught in de crossfire like dat,” Remy said softly.  He pulled Harper into his arms and held him close, pressed a kiss to his furrowed brow. “Sorry ‘bout dat, petit.”

“How did she know I’m a Pet?” Harper asked, still stunned by Rogue’s painfully accurate barb.  “Is it that obvious?”

“Hush y’self, baby.  She didn’t know any better,” Remy soothed.

Bobby gave Remy an odd look, wondering what the hell Harper meant, referring to himself as a pet.  He could only conclude that it had something to do with the weirdness back in Mississippi.  He turned a bright smile on Harper, wanting to reassure him as well. In the short time he’d known Harper, he’d really come to like the shy young mutant. 

“Rogue’s a hothead.  She says things she doesn’t mean when she’s upset.”

Harper shook his head as if to clear it.  “I’m sorry, Bobby. It’s that...word. It’s what the people who...who own mutants like me, it’s what they call us.   _ Pets. _ ” He spat the last word out.  

“Own mutants?  What do you mean, own?” Stunned, Bobby looked from Harper to Remy.

Remy sighed and squeezed Harper’s hand, then turned his inscrutable gaze on Drake.  “It’s nasty business, Bobby. Dere’s a group, dey call demselves de Society, dey been breeding mutants, like animals, sellin’ dem to humans as slaves.”

Bobby looked stunned, as if he couldn’t quite wrap his head around the idea.  “My God…”  he stopped and looked at Harper with concern.  “I don’t know what to say, Harper.”

Harper forced a smile. “It’s okay, Bobby.  It’s why I’m here. To stop them.”  

  
  



	6. Truth and Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitty learns the ugly details of Harper's life and the Society.

“It’s bad, isn’t it, kiddo?” Logan asked, leaning over Kitty’s shoulder to look at the documents she was rapidly scanning through.  Jack Roddy had done his homework, and the intel he had gathered was proof of his dogged determination to uncover all of the Society’s dirty little secrets.

“Yeah, it’s bad,” Kitty whispered. “They call themselves the Society of Pet Fanciers, like they’re just some group that likes cats and dogs.” She shook her head in disgust, then quickly gave Logan an overview of what was on the thumb drive that Remy had given her. It contained lists of breeding locations, so-called obedience schools for the Pets, the description of the various types from Breeders to Exotics, the secret locations that Society members met on a regular basis, even the identities of all the owners and the mutants they’d bought.  Some of the names were familiar: a couple of A-list Hollywood celebrities, several politicians, plenty of scions of Old Money families.  It was disgusting.  Hardest to view were the photographs. Hundreds of candid snapshots of children, teens and adults, all mutants, all enslaved.

Kitty pulled up one of the photos. It was Harper, age thirteen, standing by a man identified as Mitchell Carver, the CEO of Empire State Bank, one of New York’s oldest financial institutions, where all the city’s elite did business. There was a collar around Harper’s neck, and Carver was holding the leash. The grin on Carver’s face was in direct opposition to the look of abject sorrow on Harper’s. 

“Harper...it says right here that he was classified as an ‘exotic’,” Kitty whispered.  “Sexual slavery, Logan. Children, subjected to that.”  

“Harper was telling the truth,” Logan muttered. He’d had some doubts about the young man’s story. Now, seeing the proof, the photos, the horrific descriptions of young children being ripped from their mothers and sent for a brutal, five-year course of ‘obedience training’, then shipped off to their owners, it hit the grizzled old man hard. It was almost too much for either of them to fully comprehend, really.

Kitty rubbed her face with her hands. “If this is correct, there are at least fifty mutants in bondage, Logan, possibly more.  How the hell do we track them all down and set them free?  And bring down this Society?” She sighed. “I really need to talk to Harper. I need his input and knowledge if we’re going to go about pulling off a rescue as big as this.  And we’re going to need all hands on deck, too, everyone we can get. Maybe we can convince Rogue to bring the Avengers on board.  Hell, we might even need to get SHIELD involved. We’re going to have to do a coordinated strike on all locations at the same time, or you know these bastards will disappear and take their captives with them.”

“Or kill them,” Logan growled.

Kitty shook her head. “No, I don’t think they’ll go that far. These...Pets, they’re much too valuable. No way this Society would destroy what they’ve invested so much time and money into. Harper and his family are the result of decades of research and millions of dollars.”

“You said...family?”

“Yes, family. They’re all related, every captive, to some degree or another.”

“Jesus,” Logan whispered. “And if the Society tries to hide them away? Can we use Cerebro to find them if that happens?” Logan asked.

“I don’t know; we’ve never picked up these particular mutants in a scan before. It’s possible the change in their DNA masks them from Cerebro. I’ll have Rachael give it a try.”

“We have tracking chips.”

Kitty looked up to see Harper, flanked by Bobby and Remy, standing at her office door.

“You have what?” she asked, surprised to see him there.  She’d thought Remy had wanted him to get comfortable with them, get settled in.

Harper stepped forward.  Almost hesitantly, he sat down in a chair across the desk from her.  “We are all implanted with a tracking chip. Mr. Roddy, he disabled mine a week or so before he died.  But they’re all the same. If you take the chip out of me, you should be able to track all the others. At least that’s what Mr. Roddy told me.”

Kitty frowned.  “If your chip was disabled, how were the Hunters able to find you?”

“It’s why they brought the Hellhound with them. Since they couldn’t get a signal from my chip, the Hunters had to resort to using one of the hounds. They’re mutant dogs with psychic abilities, designed to sniff us out by our specific brain waves.”

“Jesus...who  _ are  _ these people?” Bobby asked.

Harper turned his big eyes on Bobby.  “Monsters.”

“Harper...I read what they did to you. I would understand if you don’t want to involve yourself directly in any of this. We can handle this without any risk to you,” Kitty said, concern written clearly on her face. She was struggling to keep the horror she felt concealed from the young empath. What Harper had been subjected to had left her sick to her stomach.

Harper shook his head. “You can’t do it  _ without  _ me. I didn’t just sit idle while Mr. Roddy worked. We went to all the Society parties, and I networked with the other Pets, making contacts, getting information, gathering intel. They know me...they  _ trust _ me, which is important if this is going to work. There’s a very good chance that some of them may not want to go with you.”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Bobby asked, surprised by the notion.

“Stockholm syndrome,” Kitty said. “Some of these captive mutants may have bonded with their captor.” 

Harper nodded his agreement. “They’re going to be frightened, too; the outside world is a very scary place when you’ve spent your entire life in bondage. I know that all too well. You’ll need me to reassure them, to show them it can be done. That we can be  _ free _ .”  He set his jaw and nodded firmly to stress his commitment.  “I’ll do whatever it takes, Kitty.  I will.”

Kitty stepped out from behind her desk and moved over beside Harper. She pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head.  “Brave Harper,” she sighed.  He blushed at the compliment.

Remy cleared his throat.  “Is it safe, takin’ dat chip outta him?”

Kitty smiled. “Easy peasy, Gumbo.”  She touched Harper on the shoulder. “Do you need to rest, or do you have a moment to go down to the Med Lab so we can get that thing out of you? I want to analyze it as soon as possible.”

“Can Remy come with me?” Harper looked down at his tightly folded hands. It was hard to admit his fear of all things medical.

“Of course,” Kitty reassured him.  “And I promise, Harper, it’s not going to hurt at all.”

*********

In the Med Lab, Kitty did a quick scan of Harper’s body and located the chip in the muscle of his left shoulder.  While it would have been less traumatic to simply phase in and snag the chip, she didn’t want to risk accidentally destroying it.  

“I’m just going to give you a shot to numb the area, okay Harper?” Kitty said, holding up a hypodermic containing lidocaine.  Nervous, Harper nodded.  He took hold of Remy’s hand and shut his eyes tight.  Kitty gave him the anesthetic, then waited for it to take effect.

“Can you feel this, Harper?” Kitty asked, pinching the muscle.  Harper shook his head.  “Okay, just keep your eyes closed. This will be over in a minute.”  She made a small incision over the site, then inserted a pair of fine, needle-nose tweezers into the muscle. A quick probe, and she withdrew the chip. It was small, flat and black.  Kitty carefully placed the chip in a glass petri dish, sealed it, then closed and bandaged the tiny wound.

“All done. You did great, Harper.”  She smiled warmly at him.  “How about you go get some sleep, huh? It’s late, and we’re going to need you well rested for tomorrow.”

Harper nodded again.  He was pale and a little sweaty.  Although the procedure had been quick and painless, it had brought back some very disturbing memories for him.  “I’m tired,” was all he said.

Remy helped Harper off the exam table. He looked pointedly at Kitty. 

“Chère, you t’ink it’ll be okay if Harper and I stay in my old room?  I don’t want him bein’ alone, not now.” He slipped his arm around Harper’s waist and pulled him close, protective of him.

That was when it dawned on Kitty: Remy loved Harper, and Harper loved him. And it didn’t surprise her, either. Remy was a such sensual creature, one who loved to touch, and be touched. It’s why his chaste relationship with Rogue had baffled her, Remy being with a woman he could not touch. She’d always thought it was some weird combination of self-punishment and misguided nobility on Remy’s part.  But it was obvious from the way Remy looked at Harper that this relationship, while new, was deeper and more meaningful than any he had had in a long time. It eased her mind, knowing that Harper was the recipient of Remy’s fierce love.

“Go to bed. That’s an order.” Kitty pointed to the door.

Harper gave Kitty a grateful look. Tenderly, he placed his hands alongside her face and looked into her eyes. She was suddenly stricken with how heart-breakingly beautiful he was. 

“Thank you, Kitty.  Thank you for everything.” Then, surprising her, he kissed her full on the lips.

Kitty took a step back.  Her cheeks were flushed, and she touched her fingers to her mouth.  “You...you’re welcome, Harper.”

Remy smiled indulgently at Harper.  “C’mon, cher, let’s get you to bed. Been a long day, and I don’t know about you, but I’m about dead on m’feet.” Without waiting for an answer, he led Harper out of the Med Lab.

“Whoo…” Kitty let out a low breath. It stunned her, how the touch of Harper’s lips to hers had sent a shock through her entire body.  She shook her head as if to clear it, then sat down at the workbench to begin unlocking the secrets of the tracking chip.


	7. Inward Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harper reveals a terrible truth to Remy. But much of his memory is missing, and Remy enlists the aid of Rachael to help him recover those memories. But what is lurking in Harper's mind is almost more than any of them can bear.

Harper was curled around Remy, unable to sleep.  Remy sensed his restlessness and hugged him closer.

“You sure you up ta helpin’ wit’ all dis, Boo?” Remy asked, kissing Harper’s head.

Harper was quiet for a long time.  “I have to do this, Remy.”  He pulled free of Remy’s embrace and sat up.  For a long time he sat there, arms wrapped around his bent knees.  Remy sat back and looked at him, concerned.  Harper was a powerful empath, but he hadn’t been trained well to shield himself. The emotions he was giving off frightened Remy just a little, the deep grief and hopelessness that Harper was feeling.

Harper sighed and looked at Remy.  “I have a child, Remy.”

Remy couldn’t hide his surprise.  “Oh, m’Dieu Harper!  Why didn’t you tell me, honey?”

Harper looked away, quick.  “Because I’m afraid for him.  That by saying it out loud, it makes him real, and if he’s real, he’s going to suffer the same horrors that I did, Remy.”  He paused and took time to consider his next words carefully.  “My second owner, Mr. Carver, when I was fifteen, he took me to a private Society party.  He was approached by the host, a very rich man, who had an offer for him.  He wanted to breed me with his Exotic, said he would pay him well.”  Harper paused again and looked back at Remy, searching his face, trying to gauge his reaction.  Remy reached over and gently stroked Harper’s flushed cheek.

“You go on, now, Harper.  Tell me.”

Harper nodded, as if to reassure himself.  “It’s frowned upon, this type of side-breeding; the Society Genengineers are supposed to be the only ones who do the selective breeding.  But it’s done.  So, my owner and this man, they agreed on a stud fee.  I’ll spare you the details, but it was successful.  All I know is, the baby is a boy, and he’s got to be five now. Old enough to begin obedience training.”  Harper shuddered hard.  “Remy, I have to find him. I don’t want him to go through that.  Obedience training...it’s how we Pets learn that there really are monsters in this world.”

Remy pulled Harper to him again, holding him close. Harper was shaking.  

“We’ll find him, Harper.  We’ll find your boy.”

“I don’t know, Remy.  Mr. Roddy tried to find him, but because this was a private breeding, he isn’t in any of the documentation. And I don’t remember most of that night...I was fed some sort of drug to make me forget. I don’t know who the man is, or where his house is, or...or even what my son’s mother looked like.  I don’t even know his name, although I feel like I should somehow.” Harper shook his head, bewildered by it all.

Remy placed his finger beneath Harper’s chin and lifted his face so he could look at him.  “Harper, we have someone here dat might be able ta help you remember.  Rachael, she can look inside your mind, find memories dat are lost.”

Harper stiffened in Remy’s arms.  “A...a Minder?” he asked, obviously afraid.

Remy looked confused.  “Minder?  Do you mean, a telepat’? Someone who can read your t’oughts?”

“Yes, one of those.  The Trainers, they used a Minder to punish us during obedience school.”  He shuddered again, harder this time. “I can’t tell you...the things she did, when she crawled up in my head.”

“Ah, petit...what you been t’rough…” Remy’s voice trailed off; he hated that he couldn’t take away Harper’s pain.  “I promise you, Rachael ain’t no’ting like dat. She would never hurt you.  But if you ain’t comfortable wit’ it, we’ll find some ot’er way ta track down your boy.”

Harper thought about it for a while. “No. If you say this Rachael can help find my son, then that’s what I want to do.”  He smiled warmly at Remy.  “Enough of doom and gloom, Remy, I’m sick of it.”

Remy brushed his lips against Harper’s. As much as he wanted to make love to him, he knew now wasn’t the time. What Harper needed was rest, and what comfort Remy could give him.  

“Sleep tonight, mon amoureux.” With that, Remy lay back down, pulling Harper into his strong and welcoming arms.

********

The next morning, they met with Kitty and Rachael in a small room set aside for quiet meditation. Soft lighting, soothing colors and comfortable furnishings helped give the space a warm, safe feel. Remy had already briefed Kitty and Rachael on the situation, and both agreed that before anything else was done, they would first try to help Harper with retrieving any memories associated with his child.

Once Kitty was reassured that Harper was comfortable with what was to come, she nodded to Rachael, letting her know that this was her show, now.

“Please, all of you, sit,” Rachael said, indicating to several pillows she’d placed on the floor. Harper did as she said, Remy on one side of him, Kitty on the other, while Rachael positioned herself so she was right in front of him.  

Rachael looked at Harper, and noted how tense he was. Even without her formidable psychic powers, she could tell he was afraid of having his mind probed, especially after what Remy had told her about how a ‘Minder’ had terrorized him. She wanted to him to know that she was nothing like that monster from his childhood.

“I know you’re scared, Harper, and I understand why,” Rachael said softly, taking his hand in hers. “But I promise you, I will do _nothing_ to harm you. I just want to help. Will you let me?”

Harper forced a smile. “I _am_ scared, I won’t lie to you.” He paused and chewed his lip. “But I...I have to do this. I have to know where my son is. I need to get him to safety, because once we start raiding Society members to free their Pets, I’m afraid they’ll harm him to punish me for this...rebellion.” He looked over at Remy, his fear for his son written clearly on his face. Remy, realizing how serious the situation was, pulled Harper to him and held him close.

“We ain’t gonna let anyt’ing bad happen ta your boy, honey,” Remy soothed, kissing Harper’s brow.

Rachael looked at Harper, desperate to reassure him, especially considering her own alternate path. She would never forget how it felt when she’d first laid eyes on the corpse of the genetically engineered Hellhound stored in the school’s lab. Its existence hit awful close to home for her, for reasons that were obvious. Part of Rachael couldn’t help but wonder if the creature was a precursor to the use of Psi’s like her to hunt mutants in the dystopian future she came from.

“You have my word, Harper, I won’t do anything or go anywhere you aren’t comfortable with. If at any time you want to stop, just let me know. I’ll be right beside you, and so will Kitty. I’d like Remy to join us too, if that’s alright. I think his support would be tremendously helpful.” She looked at Remy. “Are you okay with this?”

Remy didn’t hesitate. “Of course I am, ma jolie fille.” He took hold of Harper’s hand and held tight. “So long as Harper wants me dere.”

Harper blinked back tears. “I do. But Remy...you’re going see first hand all  the ugly parts of my old life. I’m just afraid that you…that things will change between us.”

Remy hushed him. “Don’t you fret about any o’ dat, honey. Not’ing is gonna change how I feel about you, you hear me? Ain’t not’ing you need ta hide from me, or be ashamed of, mon petit.” He brushed his lips against Harper’s.

“Thank you, love,” Harper replied, returning the kiss.

Rachael took a deep, calming breath and looked at Harper. “Are you ready?”

Harper closed his eyes and nodded. “Ready.”

Gently, Rachael reached out and touched Harper’s mind. He found himself transported along with the others to what he could only call a blank space, a sort of launching area for their exploration into the hidden part of his memory. Remy was still holding his hand, lending Harper his strength and support.

 _*This is it, Harper.*_ Rachael’s psi-voice whispered in Harper’s mind. _*You’re going to be our guide. Take us there.*_

Harper knew what she meant. He thought back to that day when Carver told him they would be attending a special party. The four of them were whisked away to a large and lushly appointed den. A tall man, older, expensively dressed, was mixing a drink at a well-stocked bar. Curled up on a large throw pillow on the floor was a teen-aged Harper, dressed in shorts and a low v-necked shirt. There was a diamond-studded leather collar around his neck. He seemed ill at ease.

 _*Where are we, Harper?*_ Rachael asked.

 _*This is New York City, Mr. Carver’s penthouse in Griffin Towers. That’s Mr. Carver at the bar. Obviously, that’s me on the couch.*_ Harper explained.

Remy whistled low. He was very familiar with Griffin Towers. It was owned by Marshall Griffin, one of the country’s wealthiest - and most ruthless - real estate tycoons. He wasn’t going to mention that he knew the entire layout of the expensive building; he’d burglarized several of its wealthy occupants.

They continued to watch as Harper’s memories unfolded. Carver was speaking:

“Harper, go to your room. There’s a special party tonight, and I need you to get ready. Mrs. Flynn will meet you there.”

Harper stood and bowed. “Yes Sir.” He turned to leave, but stopped when Carver cleared his throat.

“Did you forget something, Harper?” Carver asked, his voice silky smooth and coldly threatening. Harper kept his eyes downcast. Without a word, he knelt before Carver and assumed a deeply submissive posture, his head touching the floor.

“I’m sorry Sir, I forgot the rules,” Harper whispered. It was obvious by his trembling how scared he was. Carver smiled down at him. There was a disturbing cruelty to that smile. He made Harper stay in that position for a long time, knowing that leaving him to wonder in silent dread what punishment would be meted out was almost as bad as the punishment itself. As the silence stretched on, Harper began to pant with fear.

“It’s a minor transgression, but still...you must be corrected,” Carver finally said, breaking the tension. He reached behind the bar and retrieved what looked like a riding crop. “Hold them out, boy.”

Harper obeyed and held out his hands, palms up. Carver delivered a dozen quick, stinging blows to the tender flesh. Harper flinched with each one, but made no sound. Most disturbing of all was that Carver clearly enjoyed disciplining the frightened young mutant; he seemed to get a perverted, almost sexual thrill from it. Watching it all unfold, Remy tensed but said nothing, despite how much he wanted to cry out at the sight of his lover being humiliated and harmed. Instead, he held Harper tight while they continued to watch the scene as it played out before them.

“May I be excused, Sir?” Harper asked.  For a fleeting moment, he looked at Carver with murderous rage, then quickly tamped it down before Carver noticed, and used it as an excuse to inflict more severe punishment on him. Harper knew from past experience that Carver was capable of much worse.

“That’s better,” Carver murmured, stroking Harper’s head. “Now, off you go.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Harper said, getting to his feet. He made his way out of the den and up a flight of stairs. At the end of a hallway, he went into a small bedroom. It was nothing like the rest of the opulent penthouse, almost Spartan in its furnishings. Modern day slave quarters.

The adult Harper turned to the others. They all seemed shocked by what they’d just witnessed, which made Harper cringe inside. If that minor exchange had been enough to disturb them, Harper wondered, how were they going to react when things got really bad?

 _*Are you sure you want to see the rest of this, Remy?*_ Harper asked. _*That was nothing. It’s going to get much worse.*_

Remy took hold of Harper’s face and kissed him. _*I’m not going anywhere, mon amour. No way I’m gonna let you do dis alone. I’m right here wit’ you, Harper. All de way.*_

Harper smiled warmly at him. _*I love you,*_ he whispered. With that, he focused again on his memories of that day, returning the three of them to Carver’s penthouse. Harper was seated on his bed, hands folded in his lap, waiting. A heavy-set woman entered the room, carrying a large case and a zippered clothing bag.

 _*That’s Mrs. Flynn. She’s a Society Groomer; they help Pets get all cleaned up for shows and parties,*_ Harper explained.

“Alright, here’s the drill, boy,” the woman said without preamble. “We’re going to scrub you down, make sure you’re good and clean. God knows you beasts can’t seem to master the art of proper grooming. I’ve already got a bath ready for you. Get your ass in there. I’ll be there shortly. You’d best be ready.”

“Yes Ma’am.” Harper stood and walked down the hallway and to a large, sauna-like bathroom with a huge tub.  At that point, the image froze, and Harper looked at Rachael and Kitty. He was actually blushing.

 _*I’m about to get naked,*_ he warned them.

Rachael squeezed his hand. _*Go ahead and move forward a bit to a point you’re more comfortable with.*_

Harper nodded and concentrated. The memory-scene faded, replaced by Harper standing in a large dressing room. Mrs. Flynn was there, laying out his outfit for the party.

“Mr. Carver had this made special for you. I don’t want to hear any complaints about how it fits, you hear me?” She held up a small leather strop to emphasize her point.

Harper couldn’t help but flinch at the threat. “Yes Ma’am.”

Again, Harper flash-forwarded, stopping when his teenaged self was fully dressed and standing still while Mrs. Flynn made last-minute adjustments to his hair and clothes. The outfit was custom-made, molding to his body like it was painted on and designed to show off his slender, somewhat androgynous physique. It was made of soft leather dyed mahogany, and meant to compliment the color of his hair, ears and tail. The pants were simple, riding low on his hips to emphasize the rounded curve of his ass. The top, on the other hand, was something out of a bondage-fetish fantasy: a Bolero-style jacket - no shirt underneath - that left Harper’s torso and back bare, with a buckled leather strap across his chest that held the jacket in place. The sleeves were long and covered his hands like gloves. On his feet were a pair of soft leather slippers. A matching leather collar completed the ensemble.

Dressed, Harper was led back to the den. He stood, head bowed, hands clasped at his waist, while Carver circled around him, inspecting him. After a tense silence, Carver smiled.

“Perfect!” He clapped his hands together. “Mrs. Flynn, you have outdone yourself.”

Pleased with the compliment, she beamed with pride. “He is a beautiful thing, isn’t he?” She made a quick adjustment to Harper’s collar. “Needs a little more behavior correction, mind you - you should work on his problem with those nasty little looks he give his betters, though I suppose with a firm hand, he’ll learn. He’s got the making of a truly magnificent Pet. I know he’s an Exotic, but you really should consider showing him.”

Carver nodded, his pride obvious. “I’ll give that some consideration; perhaps I should engage a Handler.” He handed the woman a thick wad of cash, then waved his hand in dismissal. Once she was gone, Carver pulled Harper into his arms. He licked his lips and kissed Harper’s neck, his hands roaming over Harper’s body.

“It’s too bad we have to leave for the party right now. I’d love to see you on your knees, you little slut. Wouldn’t you like that, Harper?” Carver hissed.

“I serve to please you,” Harper replied, almost choking on the words. Carver frowned - it wasn’t the response he wanted, but let it pass. He grabbed a leash that was sitting on the marble-topped bar and clipped it to Harper’s collar.

“Now, I expect you to be on your very best behavior, Harper,” Carver warned. “No pouting, none of your usual passive-aggressive stunts, and especially no talking back, you hear me, boy? Because if you fuck this up, I’ll make sure you suffer.” He gave Harper’s collar a sharp tug to emphasize his point.

Harper shivered; he hadn’t forgotten the last time he’d been punished for acting out. “Yes Sir. I promise to behave, Sir.”

  
Carver smiled and chucked him under the chin. “That’s my good boy. Now, let’s get going, shall we?”

The scene faded away again. Harper was clearly embarrassed by the memories. Remy was quick to reassure him, pulling him close and whispering sweet words of comfort and love in his ear.

 _*Do you need some time, Harper?*_ Rachael asked, concerned.

Harper shook his head. _*I just want to get through this.*_ He concentrated. The scene before them changed again. Carver and Harper were in the back of a limo, approaching a sprawling mansion located in the Hamptons, an exclusive enclave an hour from the city, and home to some of the richest people in the country. At the gate, an ornate wrought-iron arch spelled out the name of the estate: _Le Jardin du Matignon._

 _*I know this place,*_ Harper said to Remy. _*I’ve been here before*_

 _  
_ _*I know it too, cher,*_ Remy said. _*De Matignon family, dey some Old Money folks. If I recall, ole Great-Grandpapa Francois Matignon made his fortune running bootleg from Quebec ta de states during Prohibition. Don’t surprise me one bit dem lowlifes involved in all dis.*_

Harper nodded. _*The Matignons are really high up in the Society, and their money financed a lot of the early research back in the 1960s into engineering mutants for sale to other members. Laurent Matignon is pretty much the head of the whole organization. No wonder he was able to get away with breeding his own Pet. Not like anyone is going challenge him.*_ Harper paused and chewed on his lip. _*This puts my son at serious risk; I have no doubt that Matignon will use him as a hostage. We have to get him out first, before any of the others.*_

Remy shook his head. _*Don’t you worry, mon amour. We gonna get your boy outta dere before Matignon or any of de rest of dem sick bastards find out what we up to. Isn’t dat right, Kitty?*_ He looked pointedly at her.

 _*Absolutely, Gumbo*_ Kitty said, nodding in agreement. * _Besides, if we take Matignon into custody right at the beginning, Rachael will be able to search his mind for information that will be helpful to locating and rescuing the other captives, or anything else we need to know for that matter,*_ Kitty added.

Reassured, Harper nodded and focused again on his unfolding memories of that day. The scene re-formed as Carver - leading Harper by his leash - entered the mansion. They were greeted by a butler in crisp livery, who escorted them to the private office of Laurent Matignon, the current patriarch. He was a tall man, handsome, with an air of power and privilege that seem to come naturally to him.

“Ah, Carver, so good to see you again.” He gave Carver a brisk handshake.  “I asked you to come early, because there is some last-minute business I wish to discuss.” Matignon approached Harper and looked him up and down. “Absolutely stunning, Carver; the moment I saw him at the last party, I knew he was the one I wanted to mate with my Pet. His beauty is remarkable, to say the least. You must have paid a fortune for him.”

Carver beamed. “Worth every penny, I assure you. And his bloodline is impeccable.”

Matignon circled Harper, running his hands over every part of his body. He even checked Harper’s teeth. Harper stood perfectly still while he was inspected like a prize show horse. Watching this replay of Harper’s memories, Remy felt his gorge rise up in his throat. As bad as he had imagined Harper’s life to have been, it was nothing close to the stark reality unfolding before him. Remy swallowed down the bile - and his rage - and kissed Harper, keeping him held close in his arms. Harper seemed to be struggling with his emotions, the shame he felt, the fear that Remy would be disgusted by him now.

 _*It’s okay, I got you, Harper,”_ Remy soothed. _*I ain’t gonna let go.*_

Harper, feeling more secure, picked up where he’d left off.

“So, are we agreed then on the stud fee? $100,000, half now, the other half pending successful impregnation of my Exotic,” Matignon said. “And you are sure he can perform as needed?”

Carver nodded. He didn’t tell Matignon that he had already given Harper a special drug cocktail that would insure that he would be more than ready to mate with Matignon’s Pet.

“You don’t need to worry about that. My Harper is young and quite capable of giving you what you want. He’s never disappointed me when it comes to meeting my needs.” Carver gave Matignon a knowing look that was half-way between a smile and a leer. Matignon laughed.

“Perhaps I’ll have a taste of him later, if you’re alright with that,” Matignon said, his hand sliding down Harper’s chest to his flat belly.

“Oh, I’d be honored, Laurent,” Carver replied, proud that the most senior member of the Society wanted time with his Pet. Harper stood stock still, his eyes shut tight. It was obvious that this wasn’t the first time that Carver had shared him with another Society member. Those other times, money had been involved, but Carver figured that to ask Matignon for payment would be crass.

Remy stole a glance at Harper, and was heartbroken by the look of humiliation on Harper’s face. Remy swore right then and there that he would make both Carver and Matignon pay for what they’d done to the sweet young man who had stolen his heart. Rachael had gone pale, and felt sick to her stomach. She almost wanted to end the session, but knew how important it was to dig up Harper’s missing memories. With her guidance and Remy’s loving support, Harper was able to keep going.

“You’ll find Harper to be quite satisfying. He was built for pleasure, and I’ve trained him well in that regard. You have my word; you won’t be disappointed,” Carver said, clapping the other man on the back. “Only the finest for us, yes?”

“Only the finest,” Matignon whispered, tracing his finger along Harper’s bottom lip. Almost reluctantly, he withdrew his hand and looked at Carver, all business again. “Once the breeding session is done, I’ll have the money wired to your account.”

A firm handshake sealed the agreement. Without any further discussion, Harper was led to a finely-appointed bedroom, where his erstwhile mate waited. She was a lovely thing, pale and delicate, with long, jet-black hair that tumbled down to her waist. She’d been bred to look like something out of a fantasy novel, an Elvish princess, ethereal. Her eyes were large and a deep cerulean blue, framed by slender arching brows, her ears delicate and leaf-shaped. She was wearing only a sheer robe made of some silvery fabric that did nothing to hide her naked body.

Upon their entrance, she stood. But unlike Harper, she held her head high, refusing to react to the looks Carver was giving her.

“This is Ariel, my pride and joy,” Matignon bragged. He knew how beautiful she was, and wrapped his arm around her in a gesture of ownership. “They make a sumptuous pair, our Pets, don’t they, Carver? I suspect their offspring will be perfect in every way.”

“Oh, no doubt.” Carver turned to Harper. “What do you think, boy?”

Harper cleared his throat. “She’s very pretty, Sir.”

Matignon laughed indulgently. “How about we give these two some privacy?” He looked sharply at Ariel and Harper. “One hour. You’d best be done by then.”

Once alone, the two young mutants silently assessed one another. Harper, much younger than Ariel and painfully shy, couldn’t look her in the eyes.

“I don’t know what to do,” he said finally. Ariel looked at him with kindness, and took him by the hand.

“I shall guide you, sweet Harper,” she said, her voice soft and lilting. She moved close to him, pressing her body to his, and unbuckled the straps of his jacket. She helped him out of it, then pressed her hands to his chest. “Don’t be afraid,”  she reassured him as he started to slide off his pants. Once he was nude, she let her robe drop to the floor. “I promise, this will be good for you.” With that, she kissed him, then led him to her bed.

The scene melted away again. Harper was clearly distressed. _*I...I...can we skip this part? I know there’s something important still...after...I just don’t want to see this…I don’t want to remember what we...what I did.*_

Rachael took his hand and squeezed gently. _*Just take us to the point where you’re comfortable, Harper.*_

Harper took a deep breath and focused on what it was he sought. It didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for. Harper was lying in bed with Ariel, weeping, his face buried against her breast. She stroked his hair, comforting him in an almost maternal way.

“Was it that terrible, Harper?” Ariel asked lightly as she thought back on Harper’s enthusiastic lovemaking. There had been real passion between them, honest affection, and she didn’t regret it at all.

Harper looked at her, clearly ashamed. “No...oh no, Ariel. I just...I feel like I hurt you...that what I did to you was wrong. Please, forgive me.”

“Neither of us were given a choice, Harper. But I’m glad it was you.” Ariel tenderly kissed his cheek. “We shall have a child, Harper. My body has already begun the miracle of creating new life. The baby is a boy, and he will be strong and beautiful like you.”

Harper gave a little cry, of grief and remorse, a truly heart-breaking sound.

“You know as well as I do, Ariel, that we’ll never be allowed to be together,” he said, swiping angrily at his tears. “I’ll never get to know my own son. I’ll be a stranger to him.”

“That’s not true, Harper.” She placed his hand on her belly, and closed her eyes. Harper gasped as he felt the brand new life inside her, felt his soul touch his child’s. “That is _our_ son inside me Harper, and he was made with our love. No matter what the Masters do, they can never take that away from us.”

“Our child, Ariel...oh God…” Harper whispered as he stroked her belly. He took her hand in his and kissed it.

“You will know him, and he will know you.” Ariel smiled sadly at him. “Name him, Harper. Please.”

There was a long, not uncomfortable silence as they held one another. Harper knew what name to give their son. “I want to name him Christopher, after my mother. Her name was Christiana, and she was beautiful and kind, just like you, Ariel.”

Ariel smiled, pleased with his choice. “Christopher he shall be. And I promise you, no matter how much time passes, he will always know who his father is. I will make sure of that.” She kissed Harper again. “I just wish things were different…” her voice drifted off, and a single tear spilled down her cheek. Gently, Harper wiped it away.

“I do too, Ariel,” Harper said softly. “I swear, one day I’ll come back for both of you, and we will be free.”

The memory faded away. They were back in the quiet room. Harper buried his face in his hands and sobbed hoarsely. He was utterly overwhelmed by what he’d learned, and humiliated that the others had been witness to it all. Remy gathered him in his arms and held him close, doing to his best to comfort him. Remy was struggling, too, to keep his own emotions in check, and not weep along with Harper. And he wasn’t alone; Rachael and Kitty, too, were clearly upset by what they’d witnessed. Kitty quickly wiped her eyes, not wanting the others to see her tears.

Once Harper was calm, he sat back and tried to wrap his head around it all. So much of what he’d learned had shaken him to his very core.

“Christopher...my son’s name is Christopher.” Harper choked. He looked at Remy with such pain, such raw grief, that it threatened to break Remy’s heart. “Ariel...she did something. She formed a bond between me and my son, so that we would know each other if ever we were reunited.” He paused and rubbed his face, clearly exhausted. “I have to rescue him, Remy. Now. The longer we wait, the more likely that our plan will be found out, and Christopher will be hidden away, used as a hostage. They may even harm him as a warning to insure the X-Men don’t try to make a move against them.” He took hold of Kitty’s hand and held it tight. “Please, Kitty. Please help my son,” Harper begged.

“We’re going as soon as you’re ready, Harper.”


	8. Freedom Fighters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hand-picked strike team is assembled for a rescue mission, and the target is the head of the Society. The stakes are high, and failure could mean the death of innocents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. Here's an updated Chapter 8, since what I posted before was just a complete hot mess. I should have chapter 9 done and posted soon.

Kitty hand-picked the strike team for the mission to rescue Harper's young son: Remy, Harper and Rachael, as well as two surprise additions: Jean-Paul Beaubier, the Quebecois speedster known as Northstar and Jono Starsmore, the taciturn young Cockney called Chamber. They would be teleported into the Matignon house courtesy of Nightcrawler, while she and Bobby waited on the Blackbird.

The first to arrive in the main briefing room were Jean-Paul and the rough-and-tumble Jono. They made small talk, both speculating on why they had been included on the strike team before moving on to what they had learned from the mission dossier about the Society.

_*It’s almost ‘ard to believe, innit mate? I’m still ‘aving trouble wrapping me ‘ead around it all. Can’t believe this is the first we’re learnin’ about it. Fuckin’ wankers been enslaving mutants for decades. ‘Bout time them bastards paid for what they done,*_ Jono growled in that distinctive, gravedigger voice of his.

When Jean-Paul had first met the quiet and brooding young Brit, he’d assumed, correctly, that Jono’s telepathic voice was a perfect copy of what it had sounded like before his mutant power had changed his life forever. When Jono's psionic power had first manifested by literally exploding from his body, he’d suffered permanent disfigurement. The damage was significant, with the explosion ripping away the lower half of his face and part of his upper torso. He’d always hidden the damage beneath a layer thick, rubbery bandages that extended from just below his nose to the middle of his chest, though he’d recently taken to just wrapping a thick scarf around his face. He found the latter made it quicker and easier to let loose the white-hot fire that burned within him.

Despite that, Jean-Paul had always found Jono attractive, especially his long, lean body, a nice contrast to the usual pumped-up bodies typical to most of the senior members of the X-Men. Jono's features were pleasantly appealing, too. His nose was long and straight, cheekbones high and sharp. But it was his eyes that were his best  feature: a deep, warm brown color flecked with gold, fringed with thick dark lashes beneath heavy brows. He had a mop of unruly chestnut hair that stood out in contrast with his pale skin. Jean-Paul hadn't been shy in telling Jono that he thought he was handsome, something Jono had scoffed at, though he knew Jean-Paul was being honest; Beaubier would never give false praise, especially not where Jono was concerned. Jean-Paul spoke his mind, and when he'd told Jono that he found him sexy and desirable, it was a much-needed balm to Jono's wounded ego.

While most people would mourn the disfigurement, what Jono missed the most were the simple things: being able to eat and drink and breathe. But the one thing he would never admit to anyone, not even Jean-Paul, was how lonely he was, how much he craved the touch of another. The isolation was torture, and he envied those who still enjoyed the sexual, romantic company of others. Jono had always taken that aspect for granted, had never appreciated the intimacy that was part and parcel of loving relationships until after half his face had been blown off.

Jono felt comfortable with Jean-Paul, mainly because he had never treated Jono as someone to be pitied. Because of this, Beaubier was the only one besides Jubilee to have successfully broken through Jono’s walls. True, it was an odd friendship, but it worked. Most of the others were bemused by the relationship between the Cockney Goth-boy with a penchant for brawling and the elegant, arrogant French-Canadian with a reputation for being able to draw blood with a few words.

Jean-Paul nodded. “I cannot even begin to imagine what it must have been like for Harper, being a slave, being abused the way he has. That he is even able to function normally is quite amazing.”

Jono turned his gaze on Jean-Paul, eyes crinkling in that way Jean-Paul had come to recognize as a smile. _*From wot Bobby said, the lad is quite the charmer, actually. Seems the two of ‘em got acquainted over a carton of ice cream.*_

Jean-Paul laughed at that. “Sounds like Bobby. You know how he is about his ice cream. I once tried to help myself to some while he was indulging his cravings and damned near lost my hand.”

Jono chuckled. _*Yer bloody lucky Bobby dinnit freeze yer to yer bed for the attempt,*_ Jono said. He paused a moment before continuing. _*Bobby said the lad was real shy an’ sweet, despite everyfing he's suffered. Me? I’d end up mean as a junkyard dog. All I’d want is revenge, yer know? And yer gorra give Harper credit for ‘is dedication to stopping them soddin’ bastards.*_

“He has a good reason beyond just righting an injustice,” Jean-Paul said. “His own child is being held captive, and from what I read in the dossier, he has other close family members who are at risk. A brother and sister, if I recall, though I don't know if either of them are also being held by this Matignon person.”

* _Surprised me when Bobby told me the lad’s coming along wif us_ _. Helluva risk the lad is taking.*_ Jono shook his head. _*Not like 'e couldn't stay 'ere at the school, let us take care o' business, trust us ter fetch ‘is boy safe an’ sound.*_

"If it were me, I’d definitely want to be there, risk be damned.” Jean-Paul paused for a moment, his attention drawn suddenly elsewhere. Kitty  had just arrived, along with Rachael, Harper and Remy.

“Tabarnak,” Jean-Paul whispered. He couldn’t help but stare at Harper. Jono looked at his friend, surprised. Jean-Paul wasn’t usually one to be left speechless by anything; he’d always been adept at hiding his feelings when he wanted to. But now, seeing Harper, he couldn't disguise the look of surprised wonder on his face. Whatever he’d imagined Harper looked like, it came no where close to the reality.

Jono felt a pang of jealousy. He would have given anything to have someone look at him the way Jean-Paul was looking at Harper. He shook his head slowly.

_*Yer might wanna close yer gob, mate. Yer look like Harper is somefing good ter eat, and yer starving for a nosh,*_ Jono teased.

“Mon Dieu,” Jean-Paul said, ignoring the jibe. “I didn’t expect that he would be so...so _beautiful._ ”

Jono nodded his agreement, then fell into silence. Jean-Paul didn’t press him; he understood that Jono would retreat whenever the subject got too personal for him. And while he was nosy by nature, he knew better than to risk his friendship with Jono just to satisfy his curiosity.

It wasn’t long before the last two members of the strike team showed up. Kurt took a seat in the corner beside Rachael, while Bobby sidled over to where Jean-Paul and Jono were standing

“Bonjour, Otter Pop,” Jean-Paul said with a wicked grin.

Bobby rolled his eyes. “Nice to see you too, Tinkerbell.”

Jean-Paul bit back a nasty retort and went back to watching Remy and Harper with interest, studying their interaction closely. He leaned towards Bobby.

“I told you so,” Jean-Paul whispered in Bobby’s ear. Bobby sighed dramatically.

“Yes, O Wise One. You were right, as always.”

Jean-Paul tried to hide his snort of laughter, but wasn’t quite successful. He earned a sharp look from Kitty.

“Now, I know this is short notice, and I hope you’ve all familiarized yourself with this Society, and what they’ve done,” Kitty began. She looked over at Harper, and gave him a reassuring smile. It was obvious that he was still uncomfortable with all the scrutiny, though he bore it admirably.

“There’s minimal security personnel on scene at the Matignon estate, a team of five,” Kitty continued. “We’re looking to take into custody one Laurent Matignon, the head of the Society, and two mutant captives: Ariel, an adult female, and her son, an approximately five-year-old boy named Christopher. We need to get in and out quickly, and do it without anyone knowing it was the X-Men. It’s why none of us are wearing our customary gear.” Kitty indicated to the black, nondescript combat uniforms they were all dressed in. “So is everyone clear what the plan is?” She looked at her team, waiting for any questions. There were none. They all seemed grimly determined, and ready to go.

Satisfied that her team was ready, Kitty led them to the hangar, where he Blackbird waited. Soon, they were in the air, headed to the Hamptons, where at last Julien Matignon was going to be held accountable for his sins. To a one, they all knew the price of failure, and none were willing to pay it. A reckoning was coming and none of them missed the delicious irony that it would be mutants who would bring it to the Society.

 


	9. An Unexpected Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team embarks on their mission to free Harper's son and capture the head of the Society. But what will happen when Harper finally confronts the man who has helped to enslave his family?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to get this next chapter. It's awful when the real world gets in the way of my goofing off.

_Just after Midnight…._

The sleek aircraft slipped through the night sky, undetected, until it came to a stop above the sprawling Matignon estate. Aboard the Blackbird, Remy, Harper, Rachael, Jean-Paul and Jono huddled together, ready for Kurt to teleport them to the small courtyard just outside the rear of the house. Gaining entry was surprisingly easy, and the guards on duty were quickly overpowered, cuffed and teleported back to the Blackbird by Kurt. Kitty had been reluctant at first to take them into custody, but she knew, ultimately, that the secrecy of this mission was paramount. They simply couldn’t risk leaving any witnesses.

Since Harper had been to the Matignon estate before, he took the lead, Rachael beside him providing a psi-link between all of them for silent communication. Moving close behind him was Remy. Northstar and Chamber provided additional cover.

 _*I can sense him,*_ Harper sent to Rachael. _*He’s asleep.*_ He was clenching and unclenching his fists. It surprised him how angry he was of a sudden. It was difficult to keep the rage at bay. Ugly thoughts of violence threatened to spill over into his telepathic communication with the others. Rachael clasped his hand and held tight.

 _*Stay focused, Harper. I know this is hard,*_ Rachael said, hoping to calm him. Remy, too, did his best to help keep Harper focused. Because of the empathic bond they shared, he not only felt more keenly Harper’s anger, but was at danger of being overly affected by it as well. Hard to separate his own emotions from Harper’s. It was disconcerting, and unsettling.

It wasn’t difficult locating Matignon. He was in his bedroom, a huge master suite. He was alone. Harper tensed; he felt adrenaline surge through his body, and he began to sweat. His breathing came in short, quick pants. Remy gently laid his hand on Harper’s arm.

 _*Easy now, petit,*_ Remy said through their shared psi-link. He couldn’t hide the concern in his voice. Harper shrugged off his touch, and approached Matignon's bed. There was something disturbing in the way he seemed to be slowly stalking the sleeping man, like a dangerous big cat moving in on its prey.

 _*Not sure this is a real good idea,*_ Jono muttered.

Rachael seemed unconcerned. _*He needs to do this. Let him be.*_

Harper stared down at Matignon. Finally, after so long, he was facing the man that had helped enslave his family. The man who had his son. Harper took a deep, calming breath and roughly shook Matignon’s shoulder.

“Wake up.”

Matignon sat up, startled, his eyes wide. He seemed confused, and it took him a moment to focus on Harper’s face, just inches from his. He could feel Harper’s hot breath on his skin.

“What is this?” Matignon finally said. He swallowed hard and licked his lips. He blinked rapidly, then slowly, recognition. “What...what are you doing here?”

Harper bared his teeth and hissed softly at him.

“Where is my son?” Harper growled. When Matignon didn’t answer right away, Harper took him by the arms and shook him, hard. _“Where is my SON?”_

Matignon cut his eyes sideways, as if waiting for his security detail. When he saw the cruel smile on Harper’s face, he knew there would be no one coming to save him. A strange calm fell over him.

“He’s asleep. Must you wake him?” Matignon asked, almost conversationally. His eyes flicked again to the group of mutants who stood clustered in his bedroom. While he'd been expecting something might happen since he'd been briefed about the runaway Pet named Harper, it was nothing like this. He knew it was over, everything. He was glad, now, that he'd ordered the other members of the Society's inner circle, The Council, to prepare for just such an occasion.

“Where is he? And where is Ariel?” Harper persisted.

Something flashed across Matignon’s face: Guilt. “I’m sorry...Ariel died two years ago.”

Harper pulled back his hand and slapped Matignon hard, splitting his lip and drawing blood. “You fucking LIAR. _Where are they?_ ”

“He’s not lying,” Rachael said softly. “Ariel is dead. In childbirth, yes, Mr. Matignon?”

Matignon hung his head. “Yes. She and the baby. But I swear, I never intended…”

Another sharp smack from Harper. “Fuck you. Where is Christopher?”

“Please, Harper!” Matignon begged. He was actually on the verge of tears. “I’ve taken good care of him! I even bought your brother to help care for Christopher after Ariel died. They’re in their quarters on the third floor.”

Harper froze. “You...you have Amadeo?”

“I’ve got their location,” Rachael said softly. She quickly shared the information with Gambit and Northstar. “Go get them.”

Without a word, Jean-Paul grabbed Remy and streaked away. Several tense moments passed. None of them spoke. Harper kept his grip on Matignon; he wasn’t going to let him go until his son and brother were safely among them.

Harper heard a voice that made his heart ache with joy: “Daddy?” He let go of Matignon and turned to see his brother standing between Remy and Northstar, a beautiful little boy held in his arms. Christopher looked just like his mother, with his black hair, pale skin and blue eyes. He had Harper’s feline features, though, including the ears and tail, the same silky coal-black as his hair. Holding the little boy in his arms was Amadeo. Unlike Harper, he had no obvious mutant or animal characteristics, though he shared Harper’s intense physical beauty. Tears streaked Amadeo’s face as he beheld his younger brother for the first time in years. Gently, he set Christopher down. There was a heavy silence in the room as all watched the reunion of father and child.

Harper went to his knees. “Christopher…” he held out his arms to the little boy. Tentatively, Christopher approached him. He lifted his little hand and laid it against Harper’s cheek.

“I dreamed of you,” Christopher whispered.

And then he was in Harper’s arms, hugging and being hugged, covered in kisses and tears. Amadeo joined them, holding tight to both of them.

“I knew you’d find us, little brother,” Amadeo sighed.

Harper smiled at him. “I told you I would.” He bumped his forehead against Amadeo’s. It had been almost six years since he’d seen his brother; that he would be here, now, was a balm to the loss of Ariel.

Northstar cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we really should be going.”

Rachael nodded. Moments later, Nightcrawler joined them again, teleporting the group back aboard the Blackbird. Matignon was cuffed and secured in the back, with Iceman and Chamber keeping close watch over him. Jono struggled not to light into the man out of sheer disgust and anger for everything he’d seen that night.

Kitty couldn’t help but smile when she’d learned that Harper’s brother was in the group, although that joy was tempered by the knowledge that Ariel was dead. She gave Harper’s shoulder a quick squeeze before she returned to her seat at the helm.

Remy, Harper, Christopher and Amadeo were clustered together. Remy had wanted to give Harper some space, but the younger man had insisted he stay close.  
Christopher curled himself up in Harper’s lap and dozed. Amadeo stroked the little boy’s hair.

“He asked me about you all the time,” Amadeo said, his voice low. “He never lost faith that his Daddy was coming for him.”

Harper was gazing down at his son with a sense of wonderment. “He’s so beautiful...so perfect.” He looked over at Remy. “Thank you, love. Thank you so much for this.”

Remy seemed shaken by it all. “Don’t need to t’ank me, petit,” he said softly. He pressed a quick kiss to Harper’s cheek, then settled back in his seat. Whatever he was thinking, he didn’t seem eager to share. Harper, too focused on his son, didn’t seem to notice his lover’s discomfort. All that mattered at that moment was the sleeping child cuddled in his arms, and the long-lost brother beside him.

It was a moment of quiet joy, one that would soon be shattered by the awful truth of the Society’s ultimate plan.


	10. Time Bomb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amadeo reveals a terrifying secret, something that could endanger the lives of every Pet.

“Hello, are you Bobby?”

Bobby, lost in thought over a bowl of ice cream, startled at the mention of his name. He looked up to see a gorgeous man smiling shyly at him. He was taller than Bobby, slender, with a shock of lavender-tinted silver hair that framed a face that belonged to an angel. His large, heavy-lashed eyes were the color of amethysts and framed by delicately arched brows. He was dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, untucked. He made even that simple outfit seem sexy.

Bobby realized he was staring and shook his head as if to shake off some enchantment.

“The one and only,” Bobby said, trying to hide the tremor in his voice.

“Remy said you might be willing to show me around. I’m feeling a little cooped up in the room Kitty assigned me. Would you mind?”

Bobby felt his heart skip a beat and he was suddenly nervous for reasons he didn’t quite understand. “Oh yeah, sure. You’re Harper’s brother, right?”

Amadeo nodded and smiled. “Yes. Amadeo.” He paused and ran his hands through his thick hair. “I’m not intruding, am I?”

Bobby felt a warm rush. “Not at all. I’d love to show you around.” He stood and practically threw his bowl into the sink. He led Amadeo on a walking tour of the school. Amadeo was rather chatty, something that surprised Bobby. While he might share his brother’s stunning beauty, their personalities were very different. Where Harper was quiet, almost taciturn, Amadeo was quite talkative, commenting on everything he saw and asking plenty of questions about the school.

They were stood outside the Danger Room when Amadeo looked at Bobby with concern. “Is this where you hurt your shoulder?” he asked suddenly.

Bobby laughed. He’d pulled a muscle in his shoulder a few days prior. It was still sore and stiff. “How did you know?”

“Oh, I’m a biomorph,” Amadeo said. “A healer. I can sense other’s pain.” Tentatively, he reached out and started to touch Bobby, but hesitated. “May I?”

“What? Uh yeah, sure, go ahead.” Bobby tried to hide the nervous tremor in his voice as Amadeo gently laid his palm on his injured shoulder. A warm glow spread from his hand to Bobby. It felt like joy. And then the pain and stiffness were gone. Bobby worked his shoulder, amazed at how good it felt to have his full range of motion back. “Wow. You’re really good at that.”

Amadeo blushed. “I’m glad you feel better. I don’t like you hurting.” He ducked his head for a moment, as if embarrassed by the admission. “Is there somewhere we can go that’s a little more quiet? I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed around all these people.”

Again, Bobby felt that little rush. “I know just the spot.” He grinned and before he knew what he was doing, he took Amadeo’s hand in his and led him outside. There, he shifted to his ice form and slid his arm around Amadeo’s waist.

“Hold on tight,” Bobby said, smiling. Amadeo did, laughing joyfully as Bobby made an ice slide that transported them both to the roof of the school, to a spot that was one of his favorite places to go and think. He reverted to his flesh-and-blood form and sat down on the pitched surface, patting the spot next to him. Amadeo grinned and dropped down beside him.

“Beautiful view,” Amadeo said, looking out over Central Park. “I’ve never been here before. I always wanted to see it, but it’s rare for an owner to take their Pet out in public, even ones that look human like me.”

“Why not?”

Amadeo shrugged. “Afraid we’ll run off, I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” Bobby said softly. He reached out and wrapped his hand around Amadeo’s, holding tight.

“What for? You had nothing to do with any of it,” Amadeo whispered. “I’m just so grateful to you and all the X-Men for helping us.” He paused and leaned in close to Bobby. “I only hope you can free the others, too.”

“We will. Kitty is already planning the next rescue mission. The targets are the Farm and the Obedience School. Whatever those are, they don’t sound pleasant.”

Amadeo shivered despite himself. “The Farm is where the Society keeps the Breeders, female mutants whose only purpose is to produce new pets. There’s only six of them at any given time, and only give birth every five years, so they can raise their children until it’s time to breed again. I guess the Genengineers think it’s important that we spend our early childhood with our mothers.” He paused and took a deep breath. “Obedience School is where they send us when we turn five. It’s exactly what it sounds like.”

Amadeo fell silent. It was obvious he was uncomfortable with the subject. Bobby didn’t push him; he’d read enough about it in the dossier Kitty gave him. It had been a rough read.

“I’m really sorry this happened to you,” Bobby said. He knew how lame it sounded, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Amadeo seemed to sense his discomfort and smiled.

“Did you know the other Pets have taken to calling my brother Moses?” Amadeo said, changing the subject. Bobby seemed stunned. “Three years ago, I heard other Pets talking about Harper, how he was quietly preaching freedom to them. At first I was angry with him; I thought he was giving them false hope. But the more I heard, the more I believed he would do it. And look...everything he said is coming true.” He stopped and grew serious. “I hope we aren’t too late to save the children.”

Bobby felt a chill run up his spine. “They wouldn’t hurt the kids, would they?”

Amadeo turned his big purple-shaded eyes on Bobby. “Oh, absolutely they would. They’ll murder them all if it means keeping their secret.”

“Jesus,” Bobby whispered. “I promise, Amadeo, we won’t let that happen.”

Amadeo shrugged, as if he didn’t really believe it. Bobby, wanting to steer the conversation away from such a horrific subject, gave Amadeo’s hand a squeeze.

“Thanks for fixing my shoulder. I wish there was some way of paying you back.”

Amadeo smiled. Suddenly, he leaned toward Bobby and kissed him. Bobby was stunned at how incredible it felt, Amadeo’s soft lips on his. He didn’t want it to end, but when it did, he immediately felt the loss, and craved more.

“Consider us even,” Amadeo laughed. “Unless you’d like to do that again?”

It was Bobby’s turn to blush. “Oh, I think I’d like that very much.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to Amadeo’s, and felt a thrill when his tongue touched Amadeo’s. He felt Amadeo’s warm hand against the back of his neck, pulling him closer. It was an amazing feeling, and he wanted more. He snaked his hand around Amadeo’s waist, holding tight. After what seemed like a wonderful eternity, Bobby broke the kiss and sat back to look at Amadeo with wonder.

“I’m going to have to thank Remy for suggesting I show you around.”

Amadeo laughed. “We definitely owe him one.” He paused and grew serious. “It’s really incredible you know, being able to kiss a man that I actually want to kiss.” He ducked his head and then looked up at Bobby through his bangs. “It helps that you’re so handsome and sexy.”

“Look who’s talking.” Bobby leaned in to kiss Amadeo again, but paused when he realized they were not alone. He looked up to see Jean-Paul hovering above them, an odd look on his face.

“I am sorry to interrupt...but Kitty has asked me to come and fetch the two of you. We’re ready to leave for North Dakota, and Kitty would like Amadeo to come along.”

Amadeo frowned. North Dakota was where the Obedience School was. “Why me?”

For a moment, Jean-Paul could not meet Amadeo’s steady gaze. “Just in case the children need you.”

“What aren’t you telling us, Jean-Paul?” Bobby asked, standing.

“Something has gone very wrong,” Jean-Paul whispered. “The team that went to the Farm, they found something. Something horrible. Kitty will explain. Now please, we have to hurry.” He didn’t wait for either of them to respond, simply grabbed them both and flew them to where Kitty was waiting with the other X-Men whom she’d assembled for the mission: Storm, Chamber, Jubilee, Gambit.

Amadeo, seeing Remy talking quietly with Jubilee, went right to him. “What's wrong? Is it Harper?”

Remy paled. “He went wit’ de ot’ers, to de Farm. He’s safe, I promise.”

“Where is Christopher?” Amadeo asked, frightened now. Jubilee laid her hand on his arm.

“He’s fine. I left him and Shogo with two of my students. Nathaniel and Benjamin. They’ll take good care of him.” She gave Amadeo a reassuring smile. “Don’t you worry.”

Amadeo relaxed. If Jubilee trusted them to care for Shogo, he knew that Christopher was in good hands. “Will someone please tell me what’s going on? What’s happened at the Farm?”

“I’m sorry Amadeo...but when Rachael and the others got there, it was too late. They were all dead. They’re bringing the bodies back here so we can find out what killed them.” Kitty shook her head slowly. “They seemed to have died of some sort of virus, something we’ve never seen before. It doesn’t appear to be contagious, though.”

“Oh my God,” Amadeo whispered. “I know what it is.” He ran his hands through his hair and took several deep breaths. “It’s the tracking chips. I heard Matignon talking about it once. They contain nanobots that can be released remotely that trigger a massive immune system response...something called a cytokine storm. It causes the lungs to fill will fluid, literally drowning us. My God...my God…the children! We have to get to the School...we have to go now! The Society, they’re trying to wipe out any evidence of what they’ve been doing!” Overwhelmed, Amadeo burst into tears.

Bobby pulled Amadeo into his arms and held tight. He looked at Kitty with concern. “Take it out of him, Kitty! Take the chip out of Amadeo!”

Kitty had obviously been thinking the same thing. She phased her hand into Amadeo’s shoulder and snatched the chip from his body. Amadeo had a moment of nausea, but it passed quickly.

“Let’s go,” Kitty said, heading for the Blackbird. As she took the controls of the sleek aircraft, she could only hope that they would make it to the School in time.


	11. Suffer the Little Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While only death was found at the Farm, Kitty rushes her team to North Dakota to save the children at the Obedience School. Harper disappears from the Xavier School with some borrowed tech, stolen money and rage in his heart.

_Oklahoma, earlier…_

They found them huddled together in a small building on a remote ranch. Six women. Six children all around aged two. All dead. It was clear they had died badly, covered in bloody vomit and foam, faces contorted, frozen in the final throes of a tortured death.

Harper was kneeling beside one of the women. There was a little girl clutched in her arms. Her once beautiful features were swollen and slicked with blood. His hand trembling, Harper shut her staring, dead eyes. His shoulders began to shake.

“I’m so sorry Valerie. Forgive me,” Harper whispered. Nightcrawler knelt down beside him and touched him gently on the arm.

“You knew her.” Kurt said.

Harper swiped angrily at his eyes. “My sister; she was the oldest of my mother’s three children. That’s my niece she’s holding.” He looked at the others. “What killed them? What is this?”

“Looks like some sort of virus...are we at risk?” Colossus asked.

“You can’t catch a virus from a dead body.” This from the youngest member of the team, Anole. When everyone turned and looked at him he shrugged. “What? I was listening in biology class.”

Logan tore his eyes away from the ugliness. Too close to home. “Let’s get them back to the school. See if we can figure out what killed them.” He looked at Rachael. “Think that Matignon fuck knows anything about this?”

Rachael was scowling darkly. She was angry and bewildered that her scan of Matignon’s mind hadn’t revealed that the Society would stoop to killing children, babies barely walking. She felt sick to her stomach.  “If he does, I’ll find out.”

_North Dakota, now._

The Blackbird settled down in a field of grass. There was nothing for miles, as far as the eye could see. Just an old house and two smaller outbuildings. As Amadeo stepped off the sleek aircraft with the others, he shuddered. Even though it had been fifteen years since he’d last seen the Obedience School, it still sent shivers of fear into his heart.

Memories came flooding back: his fifth birthday, a special day with his mother. It had been the best day ever. A big party for him and the other children who were also turning five. There had even been cake and ice cream. He’d received a gift from his mother, a plush horse that smelled like her.

The day after, before dawn, his mother had hugged and kissed him, had cried and told him she loved him. Then the men came. Big and scary and loud. They’d taken all six of the children from the Farm and loaded them up into a windowless van for a terrifying journey from Oklahoma to North Dakota. Amadeo had tried to be brave, clutching his stuffed toy to his chest, trying to find comfort in his mother’s scent. He’d been the Big Boy his mother had asked him to be, had choked back his tears and comforted the little girl seated beside him. Her name was Lilith, and she looked like a demon with her red skin and all-black eyes and horns, but she was really the sweetest thing. He’d held her hand the whole long trip, patting her back from time to time and whispering soothing nonsense to her. Even then, he was the healer trying to make the pain go away.

It wouldn’t be the first time Amadeo would comfort his childhood companions as they suffered through Obedience School. In fact, it was there his skills as a healer blossomed. He couldn’t recall how many times he had used his mutant power to lessen the pain and help speed the healing of wounds inflicted on the others, from the beatings, from the whippings, from the depredation. It had never broken Amadeo; if anything, it had made him the caring, gentle man he became. He shared none of his brother Harper’s rage. He was the calm to Harper’s fury.

Bobby looked closely at Amadeo. “You alright?” Bobby asked softly, touching Amadeo’s shoulder. Amadeo flinched.

“Let’s just find them,” Amadeo muttered.

“Everyone, on your guard,” Kitty said, scanning the seemingly deserted compound. “Gambit, Storm, come with me. We’ll take the main house. Chamber, Jubilee, take the barn. Amadeo, Bobby, check that last structure.” She meant the small cinder block building behind the barn. It was small, probably used for storage, and hopefully the least risky. Amadeo was untested in the field, a healer, not someone who should be sent into danger. Especially since his skills  might be needed.

“Dis ain’t right...it’s too quiet,” Remy whispered as he, Storm and Kitty stepped into the farmhouse. It was old, probably built some time in the late 1800’s. Lots of rooms. They checked each one, but found nothing. But it was clear that until very recently, there had been children there. Three bedrooms, each with two small beds, a few articles of clothing, nothing but the very basic items.

Remy clenched his teeth as he stared at one of the little beds. This is where Harper had been once. Where humans had tortured him as a child, had tried to break him and failed. Where he had learned to hate. Where something was born in Harper that scared Remy.

“Ah, Harper…” Remy sighed. He bent down and picked up a battered toy bear. He hugged it to him and fought back tears.

Inside the cinder block outbuilding, Bobby and Amadeo found horror. Six little cages, all empty. There was the smell of blood and sweat and piss. Bobby felt his stomach turn sickly.

“What is this place?” Bobby asked, his body shaking at the sight.

Amadeo shut his eyes and took a deep breath. “This is where they punished us.” He turned his inscrutable gaze on Bobby. “When one of us misbehaved, or talked back, or just didn’t do our lessons right, we all were punished. Here. Sometimes if we were really bad, we’d be taken here alone, for the Minder to work her particular brand of cruelty on us.”

Bobby shook his head. He simply couldn’t believe how this nightmare had gone undetected for so long. How had the Society gotten away with it for so long?

Outside, Jubilee opened the door to the barn. She froze immediately. The smell of fear was thick in the air. Her vampire ears could hear heartbeats. Several of them, beating fast.

_lubdublubdublubdublubdub...LUBDUBLUBDUB!_

“There’s people in here,” she whispered to Jono.

_*Is it the kids, Lee?*_ Jono asked, trying to see inside the darkened barn. It was almost pitch black in there. Fortunately, Jubilee had no problem with that. Another benefit of being a vampire. Times like this, those gifts almost made up for the loss of her humanity.

“I think so,” she gave Jono a smile. “Come on, Jono, let’s get them out of here. I bet they’re scared to death.”

It wasn’t hard to find them. They found them up in the loft, where there was more light streaming in through a hole in the roof. There, six children, huddled together, crying softly, holding one another. Three boys, three girls. They appeared to be around seven or eight years old. One of them was a tall, lanky kid, big for his age, with broad leathery wings like a bat. He hissed at Jubilee and Jono in warning, and wrapped his wings around his frightened companions.

“Don’t you hurt them!” the boy cried. To emphasize his point, his spat a small blast of liquid fire at them. It was obvious his intent was to scare them off, not harm them. The little ball of fire dissipated quickly.

_*Whoa, easy there, lad. We ain’t gonna hurt yer,*_ Jono said, holding up his hands, palms out, in a gesture of surrender. _*We come ‘ere to save yer.*_

The boy’s large yellow eyes narrowed with suspicion. “I don’t believe you.”

A little girl at his feet reached up with her webbed hand and tugged insistently at the fire-breather’s sleeve. “Nico, I think they’re okay. They have nice thoughts. Safe thoughts.”

The boy Nico seemed to relax a little. “We’ve been alone for two days. Where did the Teachers go?”

_*Don’t know, lad. But I promise yer, we really are here ter help._ *

Jubilee blew out a little breath, relieved. The kids seemed fine, no sign of whatever had killed the mutants back in Oklahoma. “We need to get you out of here, alright? Come on, kiddos, let’s go.”

The little group all joined hands and followed Lee and Jono out into the sunshine. Amadeo went right to them, checked each of them for any signs of illness. He found none, but still, he knew that at any time the nanobots could be released.

“They’re okay, no immune-system response,” Amadeo said. Kitty smiled at them, relieved that they were alive and apparently unharmed.

“Don’t be scared. We’re mutants, like you. You know what I can do? I can walk through walls like a ghost.” Kitty passed her hand through the side of the barn. “See? Now, I need you to trust me. You have something inside you that can really hurt you, and I need to take it out.”

“Oh, you mean the chip,” Nico said, as if it was nothing. “Okay. But me first, so the others know it won’t hurt and won't be afraid.”

Kitty shared a surprised look with Storm. Storm was smiling with delight at how calm and strong this boy Nico was. She wanted to pull him into her arms and hug him tight.

“What’s your name?” Kitty asked as she phased her hand into Nico’s shoulder. After a quick search, she found the chip and pulled it out. Nico gave no indication that he was distressed in any way, although she knew the experience had to be unsettling.

“I'm Nico. You’re with Moses, aren’t you? He sent you, didn’t he?”

Kitty seemed startled. She wasn’t sure what Nico was talking about. Amadeo stepped forward. “It’s what the Pets have taken to calling Harper. I guess even here, they’ve heard of him.” 

Kitty shook her head; something to think about later. Right now, she had to get those chips out of the rest of the children.

“I’m Kitty. You were very brave, Nico. Will you help me with your friends? I need them to stand as still as you did, okay?”

Nico nodded. “This is Manda,” he said, taking the hand of the smallest of them. She was covered in bright green scales and her huge eyes were a deep sea-green. She blinked rapidly with her double eyelids.

"Hello," the little girl said, shy.

“Hello, Manda. Now hold real still, honey.” Kitty carefully explored the area near her neck and removed the chip. After Manda, it was a boy named Brennan who looked like an otter. Then Ophelia, the little girl with the webbed hands and gills who had read Jono and Lee’s minds and determined they were not a threat. Next was Misha, a boy with no obvious physical mutant traits except for his eyes: gold pupils floating in a field of silver. Finally, Shiva, a beautiful little girl with pale blue skin and four arms.

“Are you taking me back to my mommy?” Shiva asked, her voice soft and trembling. Tears floated in her eyes.

Amadeo knelt down in front of her, and placed his hands on her shoulders. “No, honey, we’re not. I’m sorry.” He paused and bit his lip, unsure what to do. Before he could answer, it was Nico who said it out loud, the horrible truth.

“They killed them. The bad men. Our mothers are dead.” Nico’s upper lip curled into a sneer. “Ophelia felt their deaths this morning.”

At this, Shiva burst into tears. Amedeo scooped her up into his arms and held her close. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

Jono wanted to punch something. He wanted to blast something into ashes. He wanted to let loose a string of foul curses. He wanted to rage at the horror of it all. He did none of these things. Just stood there, feeling helpless, until he felt a little hand, warm and moist, take his. It was the boy with the metallic eyes.

“I wanna go away from here.” Misha’s lower lip trembled. “I wanna go NOW.” He looked over his shoulder. “I wanna go before the teachers come back. PLEASE NOW.” He took several deep, hitching breaths and began to cry. Jono lifted him into his strong arms. “Please, I wanna go I wanna GO!” He tipped his head back and began to wail in fear.

Jono felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. _*We gorra go, Kitty. Somefing’s coming.*_

Ophelia nodded. She was holding tight to Nico’s hand. “Something is coming fast. Something real bad.”

Kitty needed no further persuading. The children were hustled onto the Blackbird. As it lifted into the air, a huge explosion destroyed the entire compound.

“WHOA OH SHIT!” Remy cried as the blast wave rocked the Blackbird. He grabbed hold of Manda, who was seated beside him, and held on tight to her. She screamed in terror. Remy used his empathic powers to wrap her in a cocoon of safety and love, cooing French in her ear.

“Sonofabitch!” Bobby hissed, looking out the window at the destruction below. His heart thudded painfully in his chest. If they had been any later, the children would have been incinerated in the blast, all evidence of them destroyed. It spoke to the cold cruelty of the Society, that they would murder children.

Shiva was sobbing in Amadeo’s arms. He kissed the little girl’s forehead and stroked her back. “It’s alright baby it’s alright I’ve got you I’ve got I’ve got you…” He struggled not to weep along with her.

Kitty managed to get the Blackbird back on an even keel. She let out a slow breath. “Close,” she muttered to no one in particular. She stole a glance over her shoulder at the others. “We’re going to get you somewhere safe. Somewhere no one can hurt you.” The children looked back at her with such trust that it almost broke her heart. She turned her attention back to the controls. She needed to focus.

She reached out to Rachael. _*We have the kids. They’re safe, they’re fine. Any word from the Cuckoos?*_

Kitty had tasked the Cuckoos with monitoring the rest of the Pets, scattered throughout the country, tracking them.

_*We’ve got them all pinpointed; no changes. And I’ve had a chat with Matignon. The orders were only to kill the mutants at the Farm and the Obedience School.*_

Kitty felt a wave of relief. _*Thanks, Rache. We’ll be home in a jiffy. Let Harper know, would you?*_

There was a strange pause in their communication. _*Harper isn’t here. Right after we got back, he disappeared. We don’t know where he is. I don’t know how he’s shielding himself from us, but not even Cerebro can find him.*_

“Damnit!” Kitty hissed. The last thing she needed was Harper going rogue. She looked over at Remy. He seemed to understand that something was wrong. He handed a still-frightened Manda off to Bobby and dropped down into the co-pilot’s chair.

“Talk to me, petite.”

“It’s Harper. He’s left the school, and we can’t track him for some reason. Any idea where he might have gone?”

Remy closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat. He whistled low. "Ah, l'enfer." He slammed his fist against his thigh. “Got me a real good idea where he run off to.” He sat forward and shook his head. “Gonna need you ta drop me off somewhere, Kitty.”

_Downtown Manhattan, Fifth Avenue, outside the Griffin Building._

Harper looked up at the towering skyscraper and smiled.

“Welcome home, Harper,” he muttered to himself. He touched his hand to the ornate device attached to his ear. It was some strange bit of alien tech that Logan had given him. It masked his mutant appearance, made him look human, and it shielded him from psychic detection.

When they’d gotten back to the Xavier School after the horror at the Farm, Logan had taken Harper aside and pressed the device into his hand. Harper had looked at it with curiosity: it was an odd metallic color, intricate and almost beautiful, like a piece of jewelry, and designed to fit over his ear.

“Shi’ar tech. You didn’t get this from me,” Logan had whispered. “It’ll make you look human. Keep you hidden from any prying minds. Pretty much make you invisible.”

Harper had stared at Logan, surprised. “Why would you give me this?”

“I think you know why.” Logan nodded firmly. "Do it."

Harper had said nothing more to the old man, had just left, moving fast. He found a cab, paid for with money he’d taken from Remy’s bag, and within a short time found himself standing in front of the Griffin Building. This is where Carver lived. This is where Harper had really learned hate. This is where he had sworn to someday come back to. To kill.

No one batted an eye at the handsome, well-dressed young man as he boarded the restricted elevator. Carver had given him a passcard at one point, and Harper had managed to hang onto it all these years, hidden away in the lining of his old coat. Luck had been on his side, and the card still worked. Just like Carver to be so stupid and lazy, and not update the key-code.

Harper got off the elevator. It opened up right into Carver’s penthouse. A woman dressed in a maid’s uniform stopped her dusting for a moment and looked at him. It wasn’t unusual for handsome young men to show up unannounced at Carver’s place. She nodded at him, then returned to her work.

He found Carver in the bedroom. He was not alone. Beside him slept a young mutant, stunningly beautiful. He looked a lot like Harper, similar feline features. They could have been brothers, definitely cousins. He was maybe sixteen years old. Gently, Harper covered his mouth with his hand. He held his other hand up to his lips in a shushing gesture.

“I’m Moses,” Harper whispered.

The boy’s eyes widened. He nodded his understanding. Carefully, he slid out of the bed and grabbed his clothes off the floor.

“Wait in your room. I will be there shortly to fetch you,” Harper said. The boy nodded again and left.

Harper stared down at Carver, amazed that the man was still asleep. Harper leaned in close and hissed softly in his ear. Carver startled and sat up, almost banging his head against Harper’s face. Only Harper’s  quick feline reflexes kept him from being hit.

“Fuck! The fuck are you? The fuck is this?” Carver babbled, not quite awake.

“This is a reckoning,” Harper said, cold as ice. He reached out and wrapped his powerful hand around Carver’s thin neck and lifted him fully from the bed. Carver was a small man, no match for Harper’s mutant strength. His feet kicked helplessly in the air. He gurgled, his eyes bulging.

“Ah, I see you remember me now,” Harper said. He threw Carver back onto the floor. Carver crawled into the corner of the room and covered his head with his arms.

“Don’t hurt me! Don’t hurt me! I’ll give you whatever you want! I have money! I have things!”

Harper grunted. “I don’t give a fuck for your money. That’s not what I’m here for. You know that, right?” He squatted down beside Carver. “I’m going to kill you, and it’s going to hurt, and I’m going to enjoy it. I’ve waited a long time for this, you bastard. You fucker. _You rapist_.” He raked his claws along Carver’s tender belly, drawing blood. Not deep enough to seriously harm him, but enough to hurt. Carver screamed in terror. Harper was unconcerned; he knew that Carver’s bedroom was sound-proofed. No one could hear him.

He would kill Carver with a hundred cuts like that. And he had only just begun. Again and again he lacerated the man’s body. He was going for the inside of Carver’s left thigh when a voice stopped him cold.

_“Stop it, Harper! Stop it NOW.”_

Harper froze. He didn’t turn around, didn’t let go of Carver.

“Go away, Remy,” Harper growled. “Go away. This isn’t any of your business.”

Remy knelt down beside Harper, but did not touch him. “Please, mon amour, don’t do dis t’ing. Don’t be like dem.”

Harper began to pant. _“Go away Remy!”_

Remy took a chance, and folded his hand over Harper’s bloody fist. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere, baby. And I ain’t gonna let you do dis.”

Harper turned his big eyes on Remy. They were the eyes of a stranger. “You going to stop me?”

“If I have ta, I will. You do dis, dere ain’t no goin’ back. You ain’t gonna be able ta live wit’ it.” He held tight to Harper’s hand. “Trust me on dis. Please, cher, trust me.”

“Help me,” Carver whimpered, clutching at the tail of Remy’s coat. “Help me he’s killing me I’m dying…”

“SHUT UP.” Harper slapped Carver, hard. “JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!” He took a deep breath and rubbed his face with his hands. The rage seemed to drain away from his body all at once, leaving him exhausted. He looked at Remy; the bloodlust that had been in his eyes was gone now. “Goddamnit. How’d you know?”

Remy allowed himself to relax a little. “Because I know you, cher, better den anybody else. After what you saw at de Farm, I knew dis was de first place you'd come.” He pulled Harper into his arms and held him close. “You scared me a little just now, petit.”

Harper buried his face in Remy’s shoulder. “And I kinda hate you a little right now, lover.”

“Ah, petit, you say de sweetest t’ings ta me.” Remy helped Harper to his feet. “We best be goin’ while we can.”

“What about him?” Harper asked, looking at Carver.

“Hush y’self; fucker gonna live. Time to listen to me, neh? We gotta go.” He took Harper’s hand and led him out of the bedroom. They stopped by the little room that had once been Harper’s, where Carver’s Pet was waiting, dressed, holding a knapsack. He was mute with fear, but went with them, trusting the man he knew as Moses.

As the trio headed for the elevator, Remy stopped. The maid was still there, still busy with her cleaning.

“Uh, Mam’selle? You, uh...you might wanna call an ambulance for your boss. He ain’t doin’ so well.”

The woman startled at Remy’s voice; she hadn’t seen him come in, and wondered how the hell he’d gotten passed her. Her eyes widened at the sight of Harper, spattered with blood. Then she looked at the boy, and her expression softened. She knew.

“I will call, Senor. And I will tell them nothing about you.” She smiled at the boy. “Goodbye, Luka. Take care of yourself.”

Luka broke away from Harper and hugged the woman. He whispered something in her ear, then joined his rescuers on the elevator. He waved to her as the doors closed. She waved back.

And then they were gone. The maid waited a few minutes, then went to check on her boss. She smiled at the sight of him, bloodied and torn, but alive. After a few more minutes, she called for an ambulance, then packed up her bags and left. She was humming to herself, smiling as she walked out the front door of the Griffin building, out into the sunshine of a beautiful day.


	12. Dichotomy Rising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harper is changing. What he is becoming, no one knows. But he has a mission, and will go to any lengths to fulfill it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. This is a revamp of this chapter. Fixed a couple of things that desperately needed fixing. This is what happens when I stay up late and re-read my writing with a more critical eye.

_The Toasty Roaster Coffee House, Midtown Manhattan_

The Toasty was one of Remy’s favorite little coffee shops. The three of them had hopped into a cab a couple of blocks from the Griffin Building - Harper wearing Remy’s coat to hide the splatters of blood on his clothing - for the trip. They had chosen a booth in the back, hiding in the shadows.

Luka’s feline features weren’t as pronounced as Harper's, his ears only slightly pointed and lightly dusted with fur, well hidden by his thick, shoulder-length dark auburn hair. Remy had lent the boy his spare set of sunglasses to hide his large, golden-yellow cat eyes. They were his most obvious feature, and right now Remy thought it best they attract as little attention as possible. There was no telling how long it would take Jean-Paul to get there in his car. When Remy had called him, begging a ride, Beaubier had been surprisingly accommodating, promising to be there within an hour.

Luka had his hands wrapped around a steaming cup of hot cocoa. He was staring down into it, not sure what to say. Finally, he looked up at Harper with something like awe.

“You’re really him? You’re Moses?” Luka asked. He spoke so quietly that Remy had to concentrate to make out what he was saying, though Harper, with his keen hearing, had no problem.

“Actually, my name is Harper. Moses is just a name the others gave me. I use it as a codeword to let our people know it’s me when I come for them.” Harper seemed oddly calm for someone who had just tortured a man and nearly killed him. Beside him, Remy tried to suppress a shudder. There was something different about Harper, something beyond the rage. This Harper was too cool, too detached. It worried him.

Harper seemed unaware of Remy’s discomfort and smiled at Luka. “The woman in Carver’s place...the cleaning lady. You knew her well?”

Luka shrugged and cut his eyes sideways. He seemed reluctant to talk about her. He felt Harper’s eyes boring into him, and finally explained.

“Isabol is from Guatemala. She’s here illegally. Mr. Carver hired her because he knew she wouldn’t talk about anything she saw.” Luka took a sip from his cocoa and seemed to have trouble swallowing for a moment. “I’ve been with Mr. Carver since I was ten. I’m sixteen now. Isa was hired right after that. She took really good care of me, was really kind to me whenever Mr. Carver wasn’t around. And she...she stopped him.”

Harper perked up at that. “Stopped him? How?”

“Isa’s a mutant. She can...I don’t know...she can make people act certain ways. She can stop them. She can make them forget their bad thoughts and give them happy ones.” Luka shivered. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Is she one of us? Did Carver buy her?” Harper leaned forward, staring hard at Luka. The boy recoiled a littled, suddenly frightened.

“N..No...no...he hired her…” Luka stuttered.

Remy laid his hand over Harper’s. “Easy cher, you scarin’ de boy.”

For a moment, Remy felt a flash of the most intense rage from Harper. Then it was gone as quickly as it welled up. Harper seemed to shake off whatever it was and relaxed. He looked at Remy and smiled warmly.

“Sorry.” Harper turned his gaze back on Luka. This time, his eyes were kind and apologetic. “I’m sorry Luka. It’s been...a hard day.”

Luka nodded mutely. He picked at the pastry Remy had bought him, tearing off a small chunk and slipping it into his mouth. He chewed mechanically, staring out the window at all the people passing by.

“I didn’t think you would look so much like me,” Luka said suddenly. He didn’t look at them, didn’t take his eyes off the people outside.

Harper frowned. “We’re related,” he said. “Really, all of us Pets are related. We’re all descended from the original four.”

Luka didn’t respond. Harper cleared his throat, uncomfortable all of sudden. He scratched his neck nervously. “Carver probably bought you because you look like me.”

That got Luka’s attention. “What?”

Harper forced a smile. “Carver bought me when I was twelve. Sold me just before I turned sixteen.”

“He did? Why? Were you bad? Mr. Carver said I was bad all the time.” Luka’s eyes were wide. He was stunned that he and Harper had been owned by the same monster of a man.

Harper reached out and folded his hand gently over Luka’s. “I was...not what he wanted. I was too rebellious. Too...difficult. But I wasn’t bad. And neither are you, no matter what that son of a bitch might have told you, Luka.”

“Okay,” Luka muttered. It was obvious he didn’t believe Harper. He fell silent again, and ate more of his pastry. Finally, he spoke again. “So where are we going? Where are you taking me?”

Remy smiled at that. “We gonna take you somewhere safe, petit. You ever heard of de Xavier School? In Central Park?”

Luka’s face suddenly lit up. “I have! I saw it on the television! That’s where the X-Men are! Really, we’re going there?”

“Mais oui! Gonna be your new home, Luka,” Remy said, laughing. He couldn’t help it; the look of joy on Luka’s face at the news was just too wonderful.

“I think our ride’s here,” Harper said. Pulling up in front of the Toasty was a black BMW 7 Series sedan with heavily tinted windows, one of the latest models. If it was one thing Jean-Paul had, it was good taste in cars.

As they approached the car, Harper leaned close to Remy. “Why don’t you sit with Luka in the back. I think he’s more comfortable with you, love.”

Remy gave him a quick kiss. “Dat’s only ‘cause de boy is a little star-struck, meeting a living legend.”

That made Harper laugh. “You’re too modest.”

“Wasn’t talkin’ about me, baby,” Remy said. He didn’t wait for a response, and opened the back door. Luka slid in first, Remy taking the seat beside him. After a moment where Harper seemed to be considering even getting in the car, he finally dropped down into the front passenger seat.

Jean-Paul looked at Harper and cocked an eyebrow. One corner of his perfect mouth lifted in a sardonic smile. “You caused a bit of a panic, you know, leaving the way you did.” He turned his attention to the road, and pulled the BMW out into traffic. “I’ll warn you right now, Kitty is going to want a word with you.”

Harper made a little grunting noise. “I see.” He turned and looked out the window, signalling that the conversation was over. Jean-Paul was surprised - he thought he had cornered the market on chilly shut-downs. He sighed and looked up at Remy and Luka through the rear-view mirror.

“Well hello there. I am Jean-Paul. And you are, young man?”

Luka shifted in seat nervously. “Luka, Sir.”

Jean-Paul snorted. “No need to call me Sir. Jean-Paul will do.”

“Are you an X-Man? Which one are you? What can you do? Where are you from?” Luka asked, excited now, charmingly childlike in his enthusiasm.

Jean-Paul couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, I am an X-Man. Northstar. Super-speed, flight, big light blasts. And I am from Quebec. It is the finest province in Canada. Do not let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Luka smiled broadly. “Wow,” he sighed. He settled back into his seat and shut his eyes, feeling more relaxed and at ease than he had in a very long time.

When they got to the school, Kitty was waiting for them out front. Her arms were folded across her breasts, and it was obvious she was not happy. She greeted young Luka, then pointedly asked Jean-Paul and Remy to please show him around and help him get settled with the other children. A special dormitory had been setup to begin receiving the influx of newly-freed mutants. Several of Jubilee’s students, including Nathaniel, Roxy and Benjamin, had volunteered to act as caretakers for the group of children that had just arrived from North Dakota.

“Walk with me, Harper,” Kitty said. It was not a request. Harper’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t like the tone of her voice. But he acquiested, and followed her down a path into a quiet wooded area. Kitty sat down on a bench beneath an oak tree.

“Sit,” she said.

Harper frowned. “I’ll stand.”

Kitty was surprised at the tone of Harper’s voice. He seemed so...different.

“Suit yourself. Look, I understand you’re upset. I understand…”

“You understand nothing,” Harper shot back.

Kitty bit back an angry retort. She dialed back her frustration; the last thing she wanted to do was drive Harper further down whatever dark path he was on. “Look, Harper, we have to work together. We have a plan. I can’t have you running off taking things into your own hands. I know I don’t have to tell you how much is at risk here.”

Harper took a deep breath and shut his eyes. After a moment, he sat down beside Kitty. “It’s so much, sometimes,” he said softly, resting his head on her shoulder. “It’s hard, living up to this expectation.”

“Of being Moses,” Kitty said. “The savior of your people.” She paused “I’m Jewish. I know all about it. But you should know that Moses kinda screwed things up a little. He got arrogant, and his people suffered.”

Harper laughed softly. “You aren’t subtle, are you?”

“Nope.” She draped her arm over Harper’s shoulder. “Now, I’m not going to ask what you did, or how you did it. But do me a favor, would ya? Just...talk to me. If there’s something you need, if there’s something I’m missing, just come talk to me. We have to work together. Okay?”

Harper kissed her cheek. “Okay. Now, not to interrupt your great leader speech, but I’m starving, and I know I smell a kebab vendor just over there.” He stood and held out his hand. “Allow a man to by a lady dinner?”

“Well, if you insist.” Kitty laughed brightly and took Harper’s hand. “Lead on, Moses.”

_48 hours later. Night._

Remy was asleep. Harper lay beside him, wide awake. He’d been listening to the sound of Remy’s soft breathing, and felt an overwhelming rush of affection for him. It almost made him feel bad for what he was about to do.

Something had been happening to Harper. He was changing. He could feel it, deep inside him. His empathic powers were different, stronger, his ability to manipulate others becoming easier, more complete. When Luka had spoken about Isabol, the maid, about her ability ‘stop things’ it was then that he suddenly understood the true scope of his abilities. He’d done it to Kitty. He’d been able to carefully turn her attention away from her anger, to forget about just how he’d been able to avoid the Cuckoos’ probing.

Gently, Harper laid his hand on Remy’s forehead. “Stay asleep,” he said softly. Remy groaned deeply, then became very still. His breathing slowed, and his entire body settled, as if a heavy blanket had been thrown over him. Harper kissed him, then slid out of the bed.

He dressed in the black tactical uniform that Kitty had given him their first mission, and slipped the Shi’ar earpiece on. He didn’t want anyone spying on him, not for what he needed to do next.

As much as he hated what he was about to do, it was the only way. He couldn’t risk anyone else’s lives. He had grown to love the X-Men, but he was not one of them. They wouldn’t understand what he needed to do.

Harper picked up the backpack of things he’d collected over the past couple of days. He felt a twinge of guilt again. He’d gently manipulated Remy into getting him into the weapons room, taking what he needed. Remy didn’t remember; Harper had made certain of it. Ready now, he stole out into the darkened hallway outside the room he shared with Remy. He moved with surprising stealth, making no sound, and made his way to the same spot he he’d sat with Kitty just two days ago. Waiting for him was Northstar.

The Quebecois speedster was standing in the shadows, not moving, not looking at anything in particular. He didn’t seem to be aware of anything, really. Harper had earlier planted a command in his mind to meet him at this spot, at this time. Jean-Paul had no idea he was there; he thought he was still in bed, asleep. Kyle, used to his husband’s odd life and the demands of being an X-Men, didn’t think it unusual that Jean-Paul would leave suddenly in the middle of the night.

Harper pressed his body up against Jean-Paul and stole a kiss. “Sorry for this, Jean-Paul, but I need you to fly me somewhere.” He dipped his head close to Jean-Paul’s face, so close his lips were almost touching that gorgeous leaf-shaped ear. “Let's go.”

Jean-Paul pulled Harper into his arms and held him close to his body. “Hold on now.” He smiled at Harper. Deep down, a part of him wondered why he was dreaming about the young mutant, and why was it so real? Then something touched his mind, a calming voice, and he settled back into the sleep-induced fantasy.

Harper had never flown before, and certainly not this fast. He was glad, now, for the goggles he’d grabbed at the last minute. Otherwise, he’d be blind, unable to see the lights below them. It was an incredible feeling, soaring above it all. He didn’t even really mind the cold, as biting as it was.

It didn’t take long for them to reach their destination: A hidden facility deep in the mountains of Colorado, sheltered by a heavy stand of pine trees..There was still snow on the ground, and the temperature was hovering just above freezing. Jean-Paul carefully maneuvered through the trees, brushing against the close branches, and landed gently on the ground He let go of Harper, and stood there, as if waiting for further direction.

Harper turned to him and laid his hand against Jean-Paul’s face. “Listen to me, Jean-Paul: Go back to the school. In two hours, you will go to Kitty and tell her where I am.” He kissed Jean-Paul deeply, another secret, stolen act, but it was necessary; it was the best way to pass on his pheromones. “Tell Remy I’m sorry. Tell him I love him. And...and tell my son I love him. Tell him his Daddy loves him very,very much.” Harper stopped and swallowed hard, fighting tears. “Now go, Jean-Paul. It isn’t safe for you to be here. This is a very bad place for people like us.”

Jean-Paul blinked rapidly. For a moment, his eyes focused fully on Harper. He frowned. “Let me stay with you.”

Harper concentrated. Jean-Paul was fighting him. Harper couldn’t allow Jean-Paul to stay, couldn’t risk his life. Harper gave one last, hard push.

“GO NOW.”

Jean-Paul shuddered hard and a thin trickle of blood slipped from his nose. He gave Harper a strange look before streaking away into the ink-black sky. Harper took a deep breath and fought back a wave of nausea. That last push had taken a lot out of him; he couldn’t imagine that Jean-Paul felt any better. He was still learning how to control his power, still unsure how hard or soft to push.

“Alright, buck up Harper,” he muttered to himself. “You’ve got an appointment to keep.” He smiled. It was a cold, dark smile. The smile of the Other.


	13. The Big Ugly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harper has infiltrated the Society's genetic lab, with plans to end the program once and for all. But things go south. Will the X-Men be able to save him in time?

Someone was in her room.

Kitty sat up, startled, and squinted into the darkness. “Who’s there? Peter? Is that you?”

Carefully, she reached over and turned the lamp on. Warm light flooded the room.

“Jean-Paul!”

He was stood near the open window, drapes moving gently in the breeze, wearing his black and white uniform with the distinctive star flash.  His eyes were unfocused, his body lax. It was like looking at a sleepwalker. Kitty jumped out of bed and went right to him.

“Jean-Paul!” She took hold of his arm, gave him a little shake. She was stunned at how cold he was, how disheveled he looked. “Jean-Paul, wake UP!”

Jean-Paul groaned and started to pitch forward. Kitty grunted as she caught him, carefully lowering him to the ground. He started to shake. That’s when Kitty noticed the blood around his nose.

“C’mon, Jean-Paul, look at me,” Kitty held his face in her hands and made him look at her. “Focus...c’mon...snap out of it.”

He shut his eyes and groaned again. His head was pounding, and he thought he might vomit. He fought the urge and rolled over onto his side, propped himself up on one elbow. Despite his best effort, he puked. It wasn’t much, just bile mostly, but it burned his throat and made him gag. Kitty got up, went to the bathroom and grabbed a wet washcloth and a glass of water.

“You alright?” She asked softly, helping him to a sitting position. He leaned heavily against her.

He shook his head, drank some of the water. “ _Crisse_...where the hell am I?”

“Well, Monsieur Beaubier, you are in my bedroom. Came in through the window, from the looks of it.” Kitty sat back and looked at him carefully. “You look terrible.”

“What am I doing in your bedroom?” Jean-Paul asked. He seemed bewildered.

“That’s what I was about to ask you. C’mon, let’s get you up. Think you can stand?” Kitty wrapped her arm around his waist.

“Go slow,” he muttered, not sure if he could even manage the small act of standing. Kitty was able to get him over to the bed, where he collapsed again. He was shaking uncontrollably. Kitty wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and sat down beside him.

“You don’t remember how you got here?” She asked, gently wiping his face with the washcloth. Jean-Paul shook his head.

“Last thing I remember, I was in bed, with Kyle. I was dreaming…” He pinched the bridge of his nose as a sharp pain lanced behind his eyes. “Ughhhh...I have not had hangovers this bad. Ever. And trust me, I’ve had some bad ones.”

Kitty laughed nervously. “What were you dreaming about? Do you remember?”

Jean-Paul frowned. At first, he couldn’t remember. Then, a little, bits and pieces. “Something...I was flying, somewhere cold. Mountains. _Tabarnak_...it was so real.”

Kitty leaned in close to him and sniffed him. Jean-Paul drew back from her, looking at her like she’d lost her mind. “What are you doing?”

“Smelling you. You smell like pine. Fresh pine.” She sat back and studied him, then plucked a green needle from his uniform and held it up. “I don’t think you were dreaming.”

He shook his head. “I do not sleep-fly, Kitty. That’s ridiculous.”

“Well, you definitely sleep-flew into my bedroom, Jean-Paul,” Kitty retorted. “And you look terrible, although I’m betting you might just feel worse than you look.”

“You would win that bet,” he sighed. “I have to call Kyle. I have to make sure he’s alright.”

Kitty handed him her phone. “You do that. Meantime, I’m going to have Rachael come and check you out. See if we can solve this little mystery.”

“Thank you Kitty, for being so...understanding. You’re taking this quite well, having me appear in your bedroom in the middle of the night.”

She winked at him. “At least you didn’t catch me in the middle of someone.”

Jean-Paul gave a surprised bark of laughter, then winced as another sharp spike of pain flashed behind his eyes. Kitty patted him on the back, then went to wake Rachael, leaving Jean-Paul to call his husband.

_Colorado, now..._

Harper was crawling through a venting system, carefully feeling his way through the pitch black. Even with his enhanced sight, he could barely see more than a foot in front of him. He came to an intersection, and stopped. He pulled his little bag over in front of him, and dug through it until he found what he was looking for.

It was the building schematics to the facility he was in. Something else Roddy had given him, and that he had kept secret from the others. He shined a small flashlight on it, the one with the red filter, and studied it. After a few minutes, he put them back in his bag. He took the left vent, and crawled another 100 yards. Ahead, he could see light coming up through a grate. He was exactly where he wanted to be.

He peered down through the grate. Five people were working in the sterile lab, each at their own station. This was the nerve-center of the Society’s Genengineering program. These were the people who were creating new Pets. They had to be stopped, and their research destroyed. It wasn’t enough to end the program, Harper knew. He had to obliterate it all so that no one would ever be able to duplicate what they had accomplished.

Harper reached into the bag again. He felt around, and found what he was looking for: a weapon. A very specific weapon. Remy had told him it had been taken from something called the Kree, an alien race. He wasn’t sure what it did, except that Remy described it as making a _“big ole ba-boom on a body.”_ Harper figured that was exactly what he needed.

Carefully, Harper worked the grate loose, and set it to the side. He took a deep breath, then dropped down into the middle of the lab.

One of the lab techs looked up, startled. “Who are you?”

“I am Moses, and death comes with me,” Harper muttered. He pointed the weapon at the man and pulled the trigger. A burst of pure plasma exploded out of the Kree gun and incinerated the man, leaving only a greasy smear of ash on the floor.

“Whoa...that was...unexpected,” Harper said, laughing nervously. The techs started to scatter, but Harper cut them down as they fled. He moved in on the last of them, a young woman huddling in the corner.

“Please don’t oh please don’t please…” she begged, covering her head with her hands. “I have a family!”

“So did I. And you killed them,” Harper growled. “You make people like me, make us slaves, then dispose of us when you are done with us.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sor….”

Harper pulled the trigger, ending her pleas. Harper stared down at what was left of her, and felt nothing. It had to be done, just in case he wasn’t able to carry out the second part of his plan. If all went well, every trace of the Society’s genetic engineering facility would be gone, never to be recreated or duplicated.

A siren began to wail, and the lab was flooded with flashing red light. Harper jumped, startled.

“Time to go,” he muttered, checking his watch. He jumped up, grabbed the edges of the opening in the vent and pulled himself back up into it. He moved quickly, crawling as fast as he could, hoping to make it to the next stop before he was discovered: the main control room for the facility. Time for his next act.

Harper slid out of the vent and dropped down into the control room. It was empty of people, a fully automated center that regulated the entire facility: lights, power, main computer system. Everything that kept the facility running, and stored all their research.

He dropped his bag on the floor and retrieved four small devices. They were high-explosive charges. Once set, there was no going back. They could not be removed from whatever they were attached to, they could not be stopped, could not be disabled. More alien tech, but Harper couldn’t recall from which race. Skrull, maybe? Andarian? Ix’i’ian? There were so many, he’d discovered in his short time at the Xavier School. Not that it really mattered; all he knew was that the facility would be completely vaporized when those babies went off.

He placed one in each corner of the room, made sure they were well-hidden to prevent an evacuation if they were discovered, set them for 90 minutes, then started for the vent again. He threw his backpack up first, then took a moment to catch his breath. Two minutes passed. He checked his watch. Almost done. He tensed, prepared to jump up toward the vent.

“DON’T MOVE! SHOW US YOUR HANDS!”

Harper whirled around, saw the group of armed guards at the door to the control room. He reached for the Kree gun tucked in his belt. He wasn’t quick enough. One of the guards shot an electrified net at him.

Harper screamed as electricity flooded his body for several minutes. He slumped to the ground, unconscious, his body twitching. Several of the guards rushed him. One placed the barrel of his rifle to Harper’s temple.

“Easy now, Sergeant.” A man in a suit and lab coat grabbed the guard by the arm. “We need him alive.”

The guard looked at him like he was out of his mind. “This...this thing...just murdered the entire research team. _Vaporized them._ He’s fucking dangerous, Dr. V.”

“He’s perfect,” Dr. Vangelica sighed, kneeling down beside the unconscious mutant. “He’s a direct descendant of Aries, the First One. Shares all of his DNA.” He gently stroked Harper’s forehead. “Ah, you don’t know what you really are, do you, Moses? What you can do?” He turned to guards. “He’ll be out for just a little while. Get him to Exam Room 1, quick.”

_The Xavier School, now…_

Remy came flying out of bed.

“HARPER!”

He looked around, his eyes wide, terror flooding his body with adrenaline. Everything came rushing to him all at once: taking Harper to the weapons storage room, helping him pick out the Kree gun, the Ix’i’ian mortars. Harper telling him that he loved him, to forget, to sleep.

“You little son of a bitch,” Remy growled. “What de fuck you done? You stupid...ah l’enfer!” He punched the wall, leaving a hole in the wood paneling. He didn’t feel the pain from his torn knuckles. “What were you t’inkin’, baby?”

He started to turn for the door when he felt the most intense pain, nothing like he’d ever experienced before. It was hurt, and grief, and betrayal, and rage, all mixed up together. Worse, he wasn’t sure if they were his emotions, or Harper’s, or both. They were completely bound together by their shared empathic link. The only thing he knew for sure was that Harper was in great danger, and suffering badly.

Remy ran for Kitty’s room. He burst in, was surprised to see Northstar there, sitting on the bed, holding his head in his hands.

“What you doin’ here, ami? Where’s Kitty?”

Jean-Paul looked up at Remy and scowled. “I have no idea how I got here. Kitty went to fetch Rachael. What are YOU doing here? And for God’s sake, could you put some clothes on?”

Remy froze. In his panic, he’d run naked from the room. Flushing, he grabbed Kitty’s robe and put in on.

“Pink really does suit you,” Jean-Paul quipped.

Remy ignored him. “Let’s try dis again, neh?” He took a deep breath. “I t’ink I might know what’s goin’ on.”

Jean-Paul narrowed his eyes. “Talk, LeBeau.”

“Harper. He’s...changed. He can make you do t’ings, dat you don’t ‘member doin’. He did it to me.”

“Crisse…” Jean-Paul shook his head. “I think he had me take him somewhere...somewhere cold, with snow and pine trees...ahh...MERDE!” Jean-Paul grabbed his head, wincing in pain.

Remy took hold of Jean-Paul’s arm. “What is it? Jean-Paul!”

Jean-Paul was breathing hard. “I know...I know where he is…” he looked at Remy with a pained expression. “He...he told me to tell you he is sorry, that he loves you…”

Remy felt a sharp pain in his chest. “Non. He can tell me dat himself.”

“You don’t understand. We have to go. Now. I know what he’s done. There’s not much time.” Jean-Paul stood and yanked Remy up. “If you love him, you best get dressed and fast. Time is not on our side.”

Remy ran for his room, Jean-Paul right behind him. Remy threw on his uniform, grabbed what he needed, then turned to Jean-Paul. “What about Kitty?”

“We must trust her to catch up with us. Now put your goggles on; we’re going to be going very fast.” He grabbed Remy, opened the window, and flew out into the night air.

 


	14. When the Minutes Turn To Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gambit and Northstar fight to rescue Harper, while Kitty and the X-Men rush to join them.

“I swear...he was right here. He flew in through my window.”

Rachael, still sleep-dazed, looked at Kitty with confusion. “You sure you didn’t dream it, Wendy?”

Kitty rolled her eyes. “Seriously. He was here. He’d been out flying around somewhere in the high mountains, somewhere in the west, I think. He didn’t remember. And he was sick; he threw up on my floor.”

“Hold on...I’ll see if I can reach him.” Rachael concentrated. _*Jean-Paul...it’s Rachael. Where are you?*_

_*You don’t need to yell. I can hear you just fine.*_

Rachael sighed. Typical Jean-Paul response. _*Where are you? What’s happening?*_

_*Colorado, near Durango, I think. Some horribly clichéd secret research facility. Remy is with me. Harper is in here somewhere, and he’s in trouble. Can’t you just read my mind and get all these details? I’m a little busy at the moment.*_

Rachael tamped down her aggravation and focused on Jean-Paul’s mind: Harper’s plan, the location of the Society facility, images of Gambit and Northstar standing in a room surrounded by machines and computers.

_*We got us a problem, petite,*_ Remy interrupted. _*Maybe you should be coming to get us quick, neh? Dis place is gonna blow in...oh…’bout an hour. Harper, he...uh, he got him his hands on some bombs somehow, an’ we can’t stop dem.*_

_*Fifty-two minutes to detonation to be exact, and we still haven’t found Harper.*_ Jean-Paul, in his usual bitchy way, corrected Remy. _*Oh, and did I mention this place is crawling with angry men with guns who are trying to find us and kill us?*_

_*Merde, Jean-Paul...hush y’self, y’old woman. You an’ me, we been in worse scrapes den dis...*_

_*Name one.*_

_*Dat time in New Orleans, when you and me…*_

_*That is not what I meant, and you **know** it, Remy.*_

Rachael cut them off and looked at Kitty. “You heard all that, I take it?”

Kitty pinched the bridge of her nose. “Yes. I swear, Rachael, I’m going to kill all three of them when I get there. If they don’t get blown to hell first.” She began pulling on her uniform. “Get dressed. Wake Kurt. And Peter and Jono, too; we might need some heavy-hitters. And tell them they have ten minutes to meet us at the Blackbird.”

_Colorado. Twenty-two minutes and counting._

“You alright dere, ami?”

Northstar had just done a lightning-fast recon of the entire facility. He was bent over, hands on his knees, trying not to puke again. “Oh, I’m fantastic, thanks to your boyfriend mucking about in my head.” He straightened up and took a deep breath. “I found him.”

Remy looked confused. “Why didn’t you just bring him back here?”

“I’m exhausted. That burst of speed nearly used up the last of my energy reserves. I can’t fight _and_ run _and_ carry Harper all at the same time right now.” Jean-Paul looked at one of the little bombs that Harper had placed, and scowled. Twenty minutes left. “He’s on the other side of the facility, heavily guarded, and…” he stopped, and looked away.

Remy felt a chill dance up and down his spine. “Quoi? What is it?”

“He’s hurt, Remy. I don’t know what they did to him, but he’s hurt.” Jean-Paul laid his hand gently on Remy’s arm. “Just be prepared.”

Remy swallowed down his fear. “I know you sick, ami, and I’m sorry, but you gotta take me to him. Fast as you can.”

Jean-Paul took another deep breath and let it out slowly. “If I throw up, I’m aiming it at you.”

_Fourteen minutes and counting…_

Remy was able to take out the guards and the man in the lab-coat with surprising ease. Ignoring Jean-Paul for the moment, he went to his lover’s side. Harper was unconscious, strapped to a table, blood spattered over his face, more of it leaking from his nose and ears. There was an incision in his forehead made by some kind of laser and surgically closed.

As carefully as possible, Remy freed Harper from the restraints and lifted his battered body into his arms. He kissed him gently, then turned to look at Jean-Paul.

“You gotta get him outta here.”

“I can’t carry you both…”

Remy pushed Harper into Jean-Paul’s arms. “Take him and go. I’ll catch up.”

“Remy…”

“GO! And tell Kitty not to leave wit’out me.”

_Nine minutes and counting…_

From the Blackbird, Kitty spotted Northstar, holding Harper in his arms, standing in a snowdrift, light sparking from his raised fist. No sign of Remy.

“I see them!” She looked over at Nightcrawler. “Go!”

A moment later, they were back aboard the Blackbird. Peter took Harper from Jean-Paul and moved to the back of the aircraft, where two Shi’ar medical beds had been installed. He hooked Harper up to one of them, and then rejoined the others.

“Harper is secure,” Peter said. “But I don’t know how bad he is.”

Jean-Paul was panting, hard. “I have to go back...Remy is still inside, and that place is about to blow sky-high.”

“Not alone, you’re not. Show me where to go.” Kurt said. He took hold of Jean-Paul’s arm and looked to Kitty for approval. She nodded.

“Hurry.”

_Two minutes and counting…_

Remy was fighting desperately to make it out of the facility. Like Jean-Paul, he was exhausted and sick from whatever Harper had done to him. As he turned a corner, he found himself facing a trio of guards.

“Ah, l’enfer…”

He was preparing to make his last stand when he caught a whiff of brimstone. He didn’t even have a chance to make a pithy parting comment before being teleported aboard the Blackbird.

_Forty-five seconds and counting…_

“GO GO GO!” Remy shouted. “Gonna be one big ole ba-boom!”

“Everyone, hold on!” Kitty shouted. As the Blackbird lifted into the air, the entire facility was rocked by an enormous explosion. The ship was caught in the powerful blastwave, throwing it into a sudden dive toward the ground. Kitty fought the controls, struggling to regain altitude. She could actually feel the heat from the explosion even through the ship’s shielding. The aircraft shuddered and moaned but slowly began to rise again and return to a more normal flightpath. Kitty goosed the engines and put as much distance between them and the rising mushroom cloud behind them as she could.

_*Wot the flamin’ fuckin’ ‘ell was THAT?*_ Jono asked, looking out the window. His eyes were huge.

Remy sighed. “Ix’i’ian mini-nukes.”

_*Yer dragged me outta bed fer this, Kitty? Ter nearly get me arse blown up by a nuke?*_

“Shut up, Jono,” Kitty snapped. She was trying to get her racing heart under control. She looked over at Remy. “You better have a good damned explanation, Remy.”

Remy ignored her and moved to the back, where Harper lay, unconscious on the the Shi’ar medi-bed. He sat down next to it, took Harper’s limp hand in his and kissed it.

“Je t’aime, Harper,” he whispered. He softly stroked Harper’s cheek with his knuckles. “When you wake up, petit, I might just have to kill you.”

“How is he?”

Remy looked up to see Jean-Paul standing there, arms folded across his chest. Remy shook his head.

“Alive. But...I don’t feel not’ing from him. I can’t sense him at all. He ain’t giving off any emotions. Even out cold, I should be able to get somet’ing from him. He just a big ole blank.” Remy swallowed down the lump in his throat. “I t’ink...I t’ink they cut it outta him. Outta his head.” His hand trembled as he touched the surgical wound above Harper’s right eye. “I t’ink dem bastards lobotomized him.”

Rachael, who had been listening quietly, went to Remy’s side. “I think you’re right.”

Remy clutched her hand. “Can we fix him? Can you fix him?”

She couldn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t know. If they removed that part of his brain that made him an empath…” her voice trailed off. “I just don’t know, Remy.”

“Is he even in there?” Jean-Paul asked.

“I don’t know that either.” Rachael touched her finger to Harper’s forehead. “It’s like Remy said...he’s just a blank.”


	15. Blindsided

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week after destroying the Society's research facility in Colorado, Harper is still in a coma. Dr. Cecilia Reyes, a mutant and trauma surgeon, has been called in to evaluate him, and the news is grave. Will Harper ever wake up? What did Dr. Vangelica do to him, and what will the consequences be?

_One week later..._

Harper was in the school’s infirmary, where Dr. Cecilia Reyes - a trauma surgeon and mutant who often helped the X-Men with difficult medical cases - was performing a battery of tests on him. After a full week, Harper had yet to wake from his coma, and the readings from the advanced scans were not encouraging. According to the MRI of Harper’s brain, a tiny piece from his frontal lobe had been surgically excised.

Remy, Kitty and Amadeo were huddled just a few feet away, waiting anxiously for Dr. Reyes to complete her exam. Amadeo was hugging himself with his arms, struggling to stay calm. Seeing Harper lying there so still, his skin so pale, his lips tinged blue, Amadeo felt helpless. He could feel his brother’s pain, and wanted nothing more than to be at his side.

“Do you know yet what happened?” Amadeo asked, his jewel-like eyes searching Kitty’s face.

Kitty shook her head slowly. “I still don’t know all the details. I’m hoping maybe Harper will be able to fill us in when he wakes.”

“ _If_ he wakes,” Remy said miserably. Amadeo squeezed the Cajun’s shoulder.

“He’s alive. Dr. Reyes is doing what she can,” Kitty reassured him. She sighed and rubbed her face. “All we’ve been able to ascertain is that the facility, it was the nexus of the Society’s entire program. All their research, all their files, everything was there, including their ability to track - and kill - the pets via those chips. While I don’t approve of how he went about it, Harper effectively destroyed the Society, and their control over their captives’ lives.”

“Why would he go alone? That’s what I don’t understand,” Amadeo whispered. “It makes no sense. Why would he keep it secret?”

“Maybe he was afraid all dat research would fall into de wrong hands.” Remy shrugged. “I just wish he’d trusted me enough to tell me what he was gonna do.”

“Would you have stopped him?” Kitty asked. “We don’t know how many people were inside that facility when it blew up. How many people died that night?”

“I don’t know,” Remy shook his head, still bewildered by everything that had happened. “All I know is dat I never woulda let him go alone. I shoulda been dere. If I had, maybe none of dis woulda happened.” He stopped, a catch in his voice. Angrily, he brushed away his tears before the others saw.

“This isn’t your fault,” Amadeo said softly, gently stroking Remy’s arm. “None of us knew what he was going to do. How could we? If you want to blame anyone, blame Jack Roddy. It’s clear now that he put Harper up to all of this. Harper’s attack on that awful place had been planned long ago.”

“Don’t change de fact dat mon petit is lying dere, something broke inside his head. And I wasn’t dere to protect him like I swore I would.” Remy looked over at Harper, tried to pick up something, anything, and was met with nothing but silence. “I hate dis, not being able to feel him. Since pretty much de moment I met him, we had a rapport, a connection. Now it’s gone, like someone cut de wires between us. I don’t know how to explain it any better.”

Dr. Reyes looked up at the little group and waved them over. Almost reluctantly, they joined her. Remy took Harper’s hand in his, pressed his lips to the pale, cold skin. It was like kissing the hand of a dead man.

“So, what’s his prognosis, Cecilia?” Kitty asked.

“Understand, I’m not a neurosurgeon. But I _can_ tell you this - a very small piece of his brain, located in the frontal region, was surgically removed. Why, I can’t tell you. What I can tell you is that there is no damage to his higher brain function.” She sighed heavily. “I’m going to make an educated guess that the excised gray matter was the part of his brain that made him an empath.”

“Will...will he heal? Will he wake up?” Remy asked, anxious for answers.

“He will wake up. Eventually. But while his body will heal, you need to be prepared for the very real possibility that his empathic abilities are lost to him forever. Short of finding a way to help him regrow the lost neurological tissue…” Dr. Reyes paused and looked at Amadeo. “Unless...perhaps you can.”

Amadeo paled. “I’ve never done anything like that before. Wounds I can see - lacerations, burns, broken bones - that’s all I’ve ever healed before. What if I make a mistake? What if I make him worse?”

“I can act as your guide. I’ve worked with biomorphs before.” Dr. Reyes took hold of Amadeo’s hand. “I can be your eyes. Working together, there might be a chance. But I’m going to leave the final decision to you, since you’re Harper’s only living adult relative.”

Amadeo looked at Remy. “What do you want?”

Remy was silent for a long time. He stroked Harper’s forehead, brushing his hair back from his face. “Is it risky? Is dere any chance it could make him worse?”

“I don’t know,” Dr. Reyes said. “I honestly don’t. But time is of the essence; the longer we wait, the more likely the damage will become irreversible.”

Remy shook his head. “I t’ink dat should be Harper’s decision, neh? Wake him up, Amadeo. Wake him up, and let him decide. Dat’s what I t’ink. Dat’s what I want.”

Amadeo nodded sharply. This was something he could do. He’d woken up unconscious people before, people with severe concussions and head trauma. He bent over Harper and gently placed his hands alongside Harper’s pale face.

“It’s going to be alright, little brother,” Amadeo whispered. He shut his eyes and concentrated, searching for the little spark of light that was Harper’s mind. It was small, barely a flicker in the darkness, but he found it. Amadeo fed his own energy to that little light, nurturing it. Finally, he heard it, a small voice from far away.

_*Amadeo?*_

_*I’m here, Harper. Can you see me?*_

_*It’s so dark here, I can’t see anything. I’m scared.*_

_*I know you are. You have to take my hand. Can you feel me? Can you feel my hand? Take my hand, Harper, and I’ll lead you out of the dark and into the light.*_

_*I’m afraid.*_

_*There is nothing to be afraid of, Harper. Everyone is waiting for you. Christopher wants his Daddy back. Remy wants his lover back. I want my brother back.*_

_*Help me, Amadeo! I’m falling!*_

Amadeo threw his head back, eyes shut tight, teeth clenched against a scream. Harper was slipping away, and he fought with every fiber of his being to bring him back. He poured everything he had into his brother, using the sheer power of his will to take hold of Harper, to keep him falling forever into that abyss.

Harper’s eyes flew open, and he sat up, taking huge gulps of air. He started to shake uncontrollably. Without warning, he tipped his head back and wailed in fear and confusion. Remy pulled him into his arms, almost crushing his body to him, desperate to calm him. He rocked Harper like a child, whispering soothing French in his ear.

Harper wept, great hitching, hiccuping sobs, and clung to Remy. “I can’t feel you I can’t feel any of you I can’t feel ANYTHING!”

“Shh...shh, baby,” Remy covered Harper’s face in kisses and tears. “I’m right here, petit, It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay, honey.”

Finally, Harper’s sobs tapered off, and he leaned, exhausted, against Remy. No one spoke, just waited and watched.

In a very small and fragile voice, Harper asked: “What’s wrong with me, Remy?”

“You don’t remember?” Remy asked. “What happened at the facility in Colorado?”

Harper closed his eyes as if in pain. “It’s like a dream, Remy.” He looked up at him, clearly terrified, not just by his sudden mind-blindness, but by the horror of what he’d done. “It was like watching someone else.” He rubbed his face, as if trying to wipe away the memories. “He caught me. Dr. Vangelica caught me. He said he was going to fix me. And then he...I…” Harper stopped as the realization of what had been was wrong hit him. “He cut it out of me, didn’t he?”

Dr. Reyes took Harper’s hand. “Yes. He performed precision neurosurgery on you, removing that part of your brain that was responsible for your empathic powers.”

“How...how long have I been...like this?”

“You’ve been in a coma for a week. You weren’t getting any better, so we had Amadeo wake you,” Dr. Reyes explained.

“A week?” Harper was stunned. “The others… the rest...what about them? What’s happened to them?”

“Well, thanks to you destroying that facility, the danger to them from the nanobot virus is gone,” Kitty said. “We’ve been quietly paying ‘visits’ to Society members, and giving them a choice: turn their captives over to us or explain to the authorities and press why they own another person, many of them children. So far, they’ve all been very cooperative.”

“But they get away with it, what they did,” Amadeo said, an edge of anger to his voice. “Is that justice?” He stopped and held up his hand. He knew Kitty had no answer to that.

“How many?” Harper asked.

Kitty thought for a moment. “So far? Including the six children we rescued from North Dakota? Thirty-nine, half of those teenagers. We’ve set up a temporary dormitory for them in the gym. We’ll findmore permanent housing for them as soon as we can. The children and teens will be enrolled in the school as soon as they’re settled. The adults, we're going to help them on an individual basis, make sure they understand that what happens to them now is their choice, and we're here to help them no matter what decisions they make.”

“Oh thank you...thank you so much, Kitty,” Harper started to shiver. Remy draped a blanket over his shoulders.

“Was it worth it, Harper?” Kitty asked suddenly.

He knew what she meant. “Yes.”

“You killed a lot of people,” Kitty said. She was still angry that he had lied to her, that he had manipulated her, but mostly that he had risked not only his life, but Jean-Paul’s and Remy’s too, not to mention nearly blowing the Blackbird out of the sky.

“Now ain’t de time, Kitty,” Remy said, more harshly than he meant to.

“She’s right,” Harper said. He hung his head, ashamed for all that he done, for hurting the people he was supposed to love. “I’m so sorry...so sorry…ah God, what did I do? She begged me...she begged me for her life...”

Harper suddenly pitched sideways and vomited. Dr. Reyes and Remy held him while he puked over and over, his body wracked by abdominal spasms until there was nothing left. He fell back against the bed, breathing hard, and pressed his fists to his eyes. Remy was wiping his forehead with a cool cloth.

“You gonna be okay dere, Boo?” Remy asked, concerned. Harper was still shivering, and he’d gone deathly pale again. His teeth chattered loudly.

“It’s just...it’s so strange, not being able to sense any of you, your emotions. It’s like suddenly being blind or deaf,” Harper whispered. He looked up at Remy. “Can you still…?”

“Right here, right where you always been, petit,” Remy tapped his finger to his heart. “You comin’ in loud and clear. Don’t you fret, baby.”

“There’s a chance Amadeo might be able to help restore that missing part of your brain,” Dr. Reyes interrupted. “He could help regrow what was excised. But there’s risks, Harper. Amadeo has never done anything like this before, and there’s no way of knowing if it will even work. There’s even a chance of causing more damage.”

Wearily, Harper shook his head. “No. After everything I’ve done, after what I did to you,” he took Remy’s hand and held tight. “And to Jean-Paul. And oh God, what I did to those people...I don’t want it back. Something ugly was happening to me, changing me, and I did terrible things.”

Remy was surprised at how relieved he was by Harper’s decision. For the first time, he realized how scared he’d become of Harper’s burgeoning new powers, of his rage. He pulled Harper into his arms again and held him tight.

“I t’ink you makin’ de right choice, petit. We came real close ta losin’ you. You got a little boy dat needs his daddy.” Remy pressed a kiss to Harper’s forehead. “ _I_ need you.”

Harper felt a sharp pain in his chest. “Christopher...I want to see my son, Remy, please!” He looked at Dr. Reyes, pleading with her. She did a quick check of his vitals, and was satisfied that he was medically stable.

“I don’t see why not,” she said.

“I’ll go get him.” Amadeo gave Harper’s hand a quick squeeze, then headed for the Jubilee’s room, where Christopher had been staying since Harper had been brought back to the school in a coma. He returned a few minutes later with the little boy bundled in his arms.

“Daddy!!!” Christopher cried, reaching for Harper. Amadeo gently placed Christopher on Harper’s lap. Christopher beamed up at his young father, and planted a big, wet kiss on his cheek. “Hi, Daddy! You were asleep a really long time. You musta been real tired, huh?”

Harper smiled down at him, fighting back tears. “I was, sweetheart.”

Christopher snuggled up to Harper, comforted by his warmth, and scent and beat of his heart. “I missed you, Daddy.”

“I’ll never leave you again, Christopher. I promise.”


	16. Truth and Consequences, Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Harper begins to adjust to his new reality, Remy has been having doubts about the truth of their relationship, and questions their love.

“Remy, I’m going to take Christopher to Lee’s apartment. He’s got a play date with Shogo. She and Jono are going to take them to the carousel.”

Remy, seated at the little table near the window, didn’t look up from his book. “Alright.”

Christopher, excited to go, ran up to Remy. “I’m gonna go play with Shogo, Remy! Can I have a kiss?”

Remy’s face brightened. He reached down and swung the little boy up into his arms. Christopher squealed with delight. “You be a good boy, neh? Now, gimme some sugar.”

Giggling, Christopher wrapped his arms around Remy’s neck and planted a sloppy kiss right on his mouth. Remy laughed. There was no denying he loved that little boy. He ruffled Christopher’s unruly mop of hair - black as a raven’s wing - and set him back down.

“Love you Remy!” Christopher said, waving his little hand as Harper led him out of the room.

“Love you too, honey.” Remy went back to his book. He had no words of farewell for Harper. Harper frowned. In the days since he’d woken from his coma, Remy had become more and more withdrawn, more distant. They hadn’t made love, not once, not since the night Harper had stolen away in the middle of the night for Colorado. It worried him. It was why he’d asked Lee to take his son for the afternoon. Time, he decided, to clear the air. He had a good idea what Remy’s problem was, and he dreaded the conversation.

“LEE! LEE!” Christopher cried as they arrived at her little apartment. Jono was already there, sitting on the couch with Shogo. Harper couldn’t help but smile at his son’s open and loving nature. He had to give Matignon credit; he’d raised Christopher like a son, not a slave, had showered him with love and affection. It didn’t erase the man’s multitude of sins, but at least Harper no longer burned with hatred for him. Matignon was still a “guest” at the school; his fate had yet to be determined.

“Thanks for doing this, Lee,” Harper said as she picked Christopher up and hugged him in greeting.

“Glad to, Harper. You and Remy deserve a little alone time.” She winked at him. “Now shoo. Take as long as you want.”

Harper smiled wanly, gave Christopher one last kiss and hug, another for little Shogo, then left, the sound of his son’s laughter trailing behind him. He returned to the little apartment on the top floor of the school that he and Remy shared.

Remy was clearly upset about something. With his empathic powers gone, Harper struggled to try and understand what was wrong.

“Remy, what is it? You’ve barely spoken a word to me all day.” Harper had to fight the urge to pepper him with simplistic questions, like a child would: Are you mad? Are you happy? Are you sad? It was damned frustrating, having to try and interpret others’ emotions with only the most basic of clues. Facial expression. Tone of voice. Body language. He wondered if he would ever truly get the knack of it.

Remy turned away from the window, where he had been standing for the longest time, not really looking at anything in particular, lost in his own thoughts.

“Was it real? Was _any_ of it real?” Remy asked, his voice cold. His eyes bore into Harper. Different emotions flashed across Remy’s face: hurt, betrayal, anger, fear, desperate need. Harper, robbed of his empathic abilities, was overwhelmed by his inability to interpret any of them.

Harper held out his hands, a supplicant. “Oh God, Remy, love...yes…of course it was real. It is real!”

Remy lashed out at him. “Don’t you lie to me! I ain’t lost _my_ powers, remember? You can’t hide de truth from me.”

Harper flinched like he’d been struck, Remy’s cruel words cutting as sure and as deep as a knife. “Please…”

“Stop it,” Remy snapped, making a sharp slashing gesture with his hand. “I know you’re lying! You used me, Harper. You manipulated me, you lied ta me, _you made me love you_.”

Harper felt his heart freeze. “That’s not true. I swear it, Remy.” He reached out to touch his lover, but Remy shied away from him. Harper sighed heavily and closed his eyes. Time to come clean. Time for the truth, no matter what it might cost him, even if it meant losing Remy forever.

“When you first told me who you were, that you could take me to the X-Men, it was like a miracle. But I was terrified that you would just use me and then abandon me, like every other person in my life has done. So I did it...I made you want me. There it is. The truth. I used my empathy, my pheromones, my well-honed skills of seduction on you. And it worked, better than I thought or expected it would.”

Remy stood there, shocked by Harper’s confession. It felt like his heart was being lanced by a thousand tiny, cold needles.

“How could you do dat to me?” he finally said, and the pain and sorrow in his voice, that beautiful honey-sweet voice that Harper loved so much, that was like music to his soul, was almost too much to bear. But still, he had to be strong, and finish, and hope that Remy wouldn’t hate him completely.

“I was scared and alone and desperate,” Harper went on. “I needed you. I did what I had to, Remy. I had to make sure you would keep your promise to me, by making you want me, desire me, crave me like a drug.” He took a tentative step towards Remy, closing the distance between them. Remy did not back away from him, but neither did he move to meet him.

“So you used me,” Remy muttered.

Harper winced. “In the beginning? Yes. But I wasn’t even fully aware of what I was doing. It was second nature for me by then. Purely a survival instinct.”

Remy shook his head. “Dat’s a bullshit excuse, cher, and you know it.” He clenched his fists and fought the urge to strike Harper. “You didn’t have ta do dat. You didn’t have ta use me like dat. You sure as fuck didn’t have ta make me fall in love wit’ you.”

It was Harper’s turn to look stunned, and he gave a little cry of hurt that was so real, so deeply felt, that Remy knew without a doubt that he was telling the truth. “Is that...is that what you think?” Harper blinked back tears. “I swear to you, after our first night together, everything I did, everything I said, every emotion I felt, was real.” He took a quick hitching breath and struggled to keep the tears at bay.

Remy’s eyes softened, and he cupped Harper’s chin in his hand. “Harper…”

Harper shook his head. He wasn’t done, had more to say, and was determined to say it, no matter what.

“I didn’t make you fall in love with me, and I sure as hell didn’t plan on falling in love with you. I didn’t even _know_ what love was, not until _you_. Not until you, Remy LeBeau!” Harper leaned his head against Remy’s chest, holding loosely to his waist. “You made me feel safe. I wanted to give myself to you of my own free will. I gave you my heart willingly and joyfully.” He paused and looked into Remy’s eyes. “Just know that I love you with every bit of my soul, Remy, and I always will.”

Harper felt completely drained, suddenly exhausted, both emotionally and physically. He began to sway, black dots danced in front of his eyes, and he felt the world begin to collapse in on him. He was falling...falling…

And then felt himself enveloped in Remy’s strong arms, being roughly kissed, his mouth invaded by Remy’s tongue, exploring, drinking him up like he was the coldest, cleanest water and Remy was dying of thirst.

“Ah Harper, my Harper...damn you...I love you still…” Remy bit Harper’s neck, his ear, his chin, light nips along his lower lip. He caught hold of Harper’s tongue, capturing it, suckling. Harper moaned and pressed his body close to Remy’s, loving the feel of his long, hard body against his.

Remy slid his hands down Harpers back and cupped his ass, lifting him up. He groaned as he felt Harper wrap those long, thoroughbred legs around his waist, holding tight. He pressed Harper’s back up against the wall, and covered him in quick, light kisses, his hands roaming greedily everywhere he could reach.

Harper tore at his lover’s shirt, and Remy thought the sound of rending cloth, of buttons hitting the hardwood floor, was one of the most erotic things he’d ever heard. A delicious warmth moved throughout his body, touching every part of him before pooling delightfully in his groin. His cock was hard, straining against the rough fabric of his pants, begging to be set free.

Remy ran his tongue up Harper’s neck, stopped at the bounding pulse and sucked lightly. He ground his hips against Harper. Harper groaned as he felt Remy’s erection press against his own, sending an erotic thrill pulsing through his body.

“I missed you, petit, missed you so fucking much,” Remy sighed in Harper’s ear. “Tu es le coeur de mon coeur.” He wrapped his arms around Harper’s waist. “Hold on to me like you never gonna let go.”

“Never, never again,” Harper whispered. Remy carried him over to the bed. He pulled off Harper’s shirt, then bent his head to Harper’s long neck, trailing his tongue down slowly to his chest, flicking each pebbled nipple. Harper began to move, slowly rocking his hips up, hungry for him. Remy nipped at his navel, rimmed it delicately with the very tip of his tongue, then sat back on his haunches. He looked down at Harper and smiled.

“You look beautiful, laying dere, looking at me like dat,” Remy whispered, running his hands up and down Harper’s body, gripping and kneading the muscles. Harper licked his lips, and gave Remy a smoldering look. He started to sit up, to reach for Remy, but found himself pushed back down.

“Non, petit...stay still.” He peeled Harper’s jeans off in one fluid motion. Harper’s cock sprang free, beautiful and hard, a little drop of pre-cum glistening on the head. Remy wrapped his hand around Harper’s cock and flicked his tongue against the glans, made a quick probe of the slit, then lapped up the entire length of the shaft. Harper’s hips jerked up, and he buried his hands in Remy’s thick auburn hair.

“Remy...Remy…” Harper moaned, moving in unison with Remy’s mouth as he took him deeply. The feel of Remy swallowing nearly drove Harper over the edge. Sensing how close Harper was, Remy stopped his sweet torture and sat back again. He stripped off his torn shirt, his pants, then stood back in all his naked glory.

Harper propped himself up on his elbows and took in the view. “You’re so fucking beautiful. God, I love you so much.”

Remy smiled. It was what he needed to hear, a soothing balm to his wounded pride.

“Je t’aime aussi, mon beau petit chat.” He crawled up onto the bed again, straddling Harper’s waist. He took Harper’s wrists and pinned them above his head. “You’re mine, oui?”

“Yours, all yours,” Harper sighed. This was a moment of perfect trust for Harper, giving himself over so completely to Remy.

“Oui, and I am yours.” Remy rolled off Harper and piled all the pillows up against the headboard. He settled himself against them, sitting up, and patted his lap. “Come here, sweetheart.”

Harper knew what he wanted. He reached over into the nightstand a retrieved a little foil tube, squeezing a generous amount of the clear lube onto his palm. He spread it over Remy’s cock, slowly sliding his fist down the length of the shaft. Remy laughed low and sexy.

“I love how you touch me,” Remy said. “But you takin’ way too long. Now come here, petit. Give me what I want.”

“Greedy, demanding man,” Harper teased. He positioned himself over Remy, grabbed hold of him, and guided his cock inside him. Gripping Remy’s shoulders, he slowly lowered himself down, taking Remy’s cock deep inside him, taking all of him. He took a moment, breathing hard. It still surprised him how big Remy felt, how it always hurt just a little bit at first until the pain faded, replaced by intense pleasure. Remy groaned in response, and clutched at Harper’s waist, setting the pace. His strong hands lifted Harper up, then brought him down hard, and held him still so that he could kiss him. Harper began to pant and groan, twisting and thrusting his hips as Remy pushed and pulled, faster, until there was nothing but the feel of the two of them joined together.

“Ah yes, Harper, like that. You feel so good. You so hot, baby, so fucking hot inside.” Remy slid his hands from Harper’s waist and dug his fingers deeply into the muscles of Harper’s ass.

Harper threw his head back, the muscles in his neck standing out, and he gave a sudden and surprised cry of pleasure. Seeing Harper’s cock shiver and spatter Remy’s belly with come, it sent Remy spinning over the edge, and he cried out as his own orgasm rocketed through his body. Harper collapsed onto Remy, panting and groaning.

“Dear God…” Harper whispered.

Remy chuckled. “We should fight more often, petit.” He hugged Harper’s limp, sweaty body to his own and kissed the top of his head. “So...still no complaints?”

That made Harper laugh. “No...none. Not a single fucking thing comes to mind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What were those French sweet nothings Remy said to Harper? 
> 
> Tu es le coeur de mon coeur - You are the heart of my heart
> 
> Je t’aime aussi, mon beau petit chat - I love you too, my handsome little cat.


	17. A Deadly Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amadeo has found a little spot of light in his life. But will a rash act destroy his chance at happiness? (a little bit of drama, a little bit of fluff)

After sharing a large family-style lunch with a boisterous group of teenage newcomers, Kitty went to visit Laurent Matignon in his cell in the school’s basement, carrying a tray for him. She meant to discuss his future, but found him still in bed, the blankets pulled up to his chin. His breakfast was untouched. At first she thought he was sleeping, but when she touched him, he was cold and unresponsive.

Cursing under her breath, she paged Danny Makakoa, the school’s new Physician’s Assistant. He was a mutant too, a shapeshifter who could take any animal form he wanted. A native Hawaiian, he’d come to New York to attend school and ended up staying. While he missed O’ahu, he’d fallen in love with the city. Best of all, he’d found a home at the Xavier School, a place where he could help other mutants, both as a medical professional and an X-Man.

Danny was seeing to one of the children that had been rescued from North Dakota. Nico, still learning how to use his large, leathery bat wings, had taken a hell of a tumble, suffering a few scrapes and bruises, and spraining his wrist. Danny was just finishing up with him when he got the page from Kitty, requesting that he respond to the secure holding area.

“You’re going to be fine, Nico,” Danny said, patting the boy on the arm. “Just make sure you follow the RICE rule: Rest, ice, compression, elevation.”

Nico was a handsome boy, with skin the color of granite and hair the same shade of moss you might find growing there. He reminded Danny of a gargoyle.

Nico smiled up at Danny, revealing his long fangs. “K, Dr. D. Can I go play now?”

Danny shook his head, amused by the boy’s exuberance. Despite all he’d been through, he was amazingly resilient. “I’d rather you went back to your room and rest for today, alright?”

Nico gave a long, exaggerated groan and rolled his eyes dramatically. “Aw, c’mon, Dr. D! That’s so _boring!_ ”

“No arguments, young man. You aren’t made of stone, even if you look like it,” Danny teased. He turned to his nurse. “Miriam, make sure Nico understands his post-injury treatment protocol. I’ve got to go, but if you need me, just use the paging system like I showed you.”

Miriam Tavana was a Sufi Muslim whose family had fled Iran twenty-five years ago, when she was just an infant. Like Danny, she was also a new hire. Unlike Danny, she was not a mutant. But her nursing credentials and work history were excellent, and in the first few, hectic days that he’d worked with her, he’d been impressed with her skill and compassion.

They’d been busy with the newly-freed mutants, conducting physicals, treating their myriad health problems, most of which were the direct result of a life of slavery, of depredation and cruelty. For many, the wounds went much deeper, and several mutant psychologists and therapists from around New York had volunteered their services to help with the group they had started to refer to as the Genesis Mutants. It had been the name of the Society’s secret genetic experimentation program that had created them.

“I came as soon as I could,” Danny said as he joined Kitty. “Young Nico decided to practice his flight skills...from the window of his room on the second floor. That boy’s going to need some supervision. Now, where’s my patient?”

Kitty winced. “Over here. It’s Laurent Matignon. I think he might be dead. Actually, I’m pretty sure he’s dead.”

“What?” Danny looked shocked. “I just examined him. He was fine. In excellent health.” He took a deep breath, chiding himself for jumping right to the assumption that somehow he’d missed something, some important medical clue.

He went into the room where Matignon was stretched out on the bed. He pulled the covers down. Matignon’s pajamas were soaked with thick, dark blood, although someone had taken the time to wash it from his face and neck. Danny shined a flashlight up Matignon’s nose and in his mouth, and found more clotted blood there. After finishing the examination, he pulled the blanket back over the body.

“Is he really dead, Danny?” Kitty asked, knowing how stupid it sounded, but needing to ask anyway.

“I’m afraid so, ku’u ipo.” Danny stood and slipped off his latex exam gloves. “Looks like he died from a sudden abdominal aortic aneurysm. Bled out in minutes.”

“Oh, well that’s better than what I was afraid of,” Kitty sighed, relieved. She’d automatically assumed there’d been foul play.

Danny held up his hand, and Kitty’s heart sank. “I said it _looks_ like one,” he continued. “This wasn’t natural. He was fine when I examined him two days ago. No signs of any cardiac issues, nothing on any of the scans to suggest he was at risk of a triple-A.” He paused and looked at Kitty pointedly. “You’ve got a healer among the new arrivals, don’t you?”

“Yes. Harper’s brother, Amadeo. Why?”

“Because a biomorph can kill as easily as they can heal. And if I recall from his medical file, Amadeo had been one of Matignon’s personal slaves, and Matignon was directly responsible for the murder of his sister and niece.” Danny sighed heavily. He was still struggling to accept that several generations of mutants had been cruelly enslaved by humans for decades, and had done it right under everyone’s noses. “If anyone had a reason - and the ability - to kill Matignon, it was Amadeo.”

Kitty felt sick to her stomach. After what had happened with Harper, she really didn’t want to believe that sweet, kind Amadeo would actually take a life. Then, she recalled what Amadeo had said when he’d learned that the members of the Society would not be punished for their crimes:

_They get away with it, what they did. Is that justice?_

Had Amadeo, fearing Matignon would never pay for his crimes, taken things into his own hands?

 

Upstairs, in one of the rec rooms, Amadeo was sitting on the couch, his head in his hands, crying. Beside him, Bobby was doing his best to figure out what had happened to make the gentle healer so distraught.

“Please Amadeo, tell me, what’s wrong? What is it? Is there something I can do?” Bobby was completely bewildered by Amadeo’s sudden storm of tears. Since that night on the roof, when they’d first shared a kiss, the two of them had been quietly dating. He’d gotten to know Amadeo quite well in that time, knew him to be a calm, level-headed man. Sensitive, yes, but not prone to emotional outbursts, not like this anyway.

“I didn’t mean to, I swear I didn’t mean to!” Amadeo looked at Bobby, terror in his eyes. “I just...I just wanted to ask him why? Why would he kill the children? Why would he kill my sister? My niece? I didn’t mean to do it… _I didn’t even know I could!_ ” He buried his head in his hands and began weeping in earnest. Bobby didn’t need to be an empath to sense the deep shame that Amadeo felt.

“You’re not making any sense,” Bobby soothed. “What are you talking about?”

Amadeo looked at Bobby, his purple eyes brimming with tears. “I killed him, Bobby. I killed Matignon.”

Bobby shook his head. No way Amadeo killed someone. Not him. Amadeo wouldn’t hurt anyone; it simply wasn’t in his nature. “There’s got to be a mistake.”

“There’s no mistake,” a familiar voice said from the doorway. Bobby looked up to see Kitty and the new guy from the clinic standing there.

“I’m so sorry, Kitty!” Amadeo said, his voice trembling. He was absolutely devastated by what he’d done, and terrified that he would be driven from the school as punishment. The very idea made him sick with fear.

Kitty sat down on the other side of Amadeo and laid her hand gently on his shoulder. There was no mistaking the guilt and anguish Amadeo was feeling.

“Take a deep breath, and try and calm down, okay?” Kitty said, rubbing Amadeo’s back. He was breathing much too fast, and she was afraid he might start hyperventilating.

“Can you tell us what happened?”

Amadeo looked at the man who had spoken to him, and shuddered. Like all of the Society’s former slaves, the mere sight of one of those white lab coats was enough to frighten any of them. For them, there were no positive associations with anything medical. Danny had read up extensively on the Society, and understood why Amadeo was so afraid of him. He knew he had to be careful, not do or say anything that would only add to Amadeo’s anxiety.

“Amadeo, this is Danny. He’s runs our health clinic here at the school,” Kitty explained. “It’s okay, he’s not going to hurt you. He’s a mutant, like us. We just need you to tell us what happened.”

Amadeo drew a deep, shuddering breath. He slipped his hand into Bobby’s and held tight.

“Laurent bought me two years ago, to help care for Christopher, nothing else, never demanded anything from me, even though I’m an Exotic.” Amadeo stopped and cast a quick, darting glance at Bobby. Although he’d told Bobby everything, he still felt the shame and embarrassment that all of the Society’s body slaves did. Bobby gave him a reassuring smile; he’d told Amadeo from the start that his past didn’t affect how he felt about him.

“I know he spent a small fortune acquiring me from my previous owner. He wanted me specifically because I was Christopher’s uncle, and because I’m a biomorph. He wanted someone who would not only love and protect Christopher, but could heal him if anything bad happened.” Amadeo paused for a moment, suddenly shaken by the memory.

“As strange as this may sound, Laurent genuinely loved Christopher. He didn’t treat him like a slave, like a piece of property. He doted on that boy. After Ariel died, Christopher was so traumatized by the loss of his mother that he stopped eating, stopped talking...Laurent was apparently beside himself, afraid he was going to die. So that’s when he bought me.

“When I found out that it was Laurent himself who gave the order to kill the children at the Farm, I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t understand how he could do it.” Amadeo pressed his fists to his eyes, trying to hold back fresh tears. “I wanted know, why? Why would he kill the children? After how I’d seen him treat Christopher, seeing how much he loved him, it just didn’t make any sense. So, this morning, I went down there to confront him.”

“Were you planning on doing something to him?” Kitty asked gently. “Did you have any intention of harming him?”

Amadeo shook his head fiercely. “No! I would never...I’m not like that!” He seemed absolutely bewildered by what he’d done. “I sat down with him, and I asked him why he’d done it. And he was so cold about it, so...I don’t know how to describe it. For him, ordering the deaths of those little babies along with their mothers...well, it meant no more to him than ordering one of his servants to take out the trash. Because that’s what we were to him: disposable. We were commodities to be made, used up and then thrown away.” He stopped again and made a strange, choking sound. It took him a while to get his emotions under control again.

“It’s alright, ‘Deo,” Bobby soothed, stroking his back.

“I don’t know what I was thinking...I just put my hand on his chest. I wanted to feel his heart, see if he actually had one. The next thing I know, he got this strange look on his face, and blood started pouring out of his mouth. Thick, clotted blood. I didn’t know what was happening, but I swear, I tried to stop it. I tried to heal him, I tried really hard, but it didn’t work. He died. I knew deep down that it was because of me, that I’d broken something inside him that I couldn’t fix, and I was so scared. I cleaned him up, put him on the bed, and I left. I just left him there.” Amadeo looked at Kitty, fear in his eyes. “Are you going to make me leave now?”

“What? Oh, Amadeo we would never do that,” Kitty said, shocked that he would even think that. “You didn’t mean to kill him. It was an accident.”

Amadeo was so relieved to learn he was going to be allowed to stay that he couldn’t hold back the tears. He buried his face in his hands and began to cry again.

“I don’t understand why he died,” Amadeo said miserably. “What did I do to him?”

Bobby looked up at Danny, hoping for some input, anything to reassure Amadeo. For a moment, Danny was too stunned by everything Amadeo had just revealed to do anything but stare at him. It wasn’t that he was shocked by what Amadeo had done, but that he hadn’t done it a lot sooner. As far as Danny was concerned, if their roles had been reversed, he would have killed Matignon in his sleep the same day he brought him into his home.

Danny managed to shake off the shock and resume a professional demeanor.

“A biomorph’s skills aren’t just limited to healing. It’s about the ability to manipulate tissue at the cellular level. You can break a bone as easily as you can repair it.” Danny scratched the back of his neck, wondering if he should have told Amadeo that. Too late now, he figured, and continued.

“When you touched Matignon’s chest, you were under extreme emotional duress; all of you have some level of PTSD.” Danny paused and let that sink in. “From the description you gave, I’m going to guess that you ruptured his aorta - and probably did additional damage to the entire heart. Because you haven’t been properly trained in how to use your biomorphic manipulation, you had no idea how to fix it. It’s not about the ‘laying on of hands’. While biomorphs do need to make physical contact, they also need to have some sort of understanding of anatomy and physiology in order to correct serious structural damage.”

Amadeo nodded. “That’s what I told them, when Harper was still in a coma. I only know how to heal wounds that I can see and understand: broken bones, burns, cuts, that sort of thing. It’s only been recently that I’ve been able to help wake people who’ve experienced head trauma. I can wake them up, but I can’t fix their brain.”

“Not yet, you can’t,” Danny said. “With training, you’ll learn. I’d be more than happy to take you on as a medical assistant. I read your file. You’re very skilled; I think you have the potential to be an Omega-level biomorph, given some time and practice.” He looked at Kitty. “What do you think, Boss-Lady? Think there’s enough in the budget for me to hire him? I could use the help. Miriam and I are pretty slammed.”

Kitty was a little overwhelmed by the quick turn of events, and gave a nervous little laugh. “Okay, yeah. Amadeo, what do you think? Is this something you want?”

“I...I...yes. Yes, it is!” Amadeo began laughing along with Kitty, amazed as well. He’d gone from being absolutely sure he was going to be banished from the school to working for it.

“You hear that, ‘Deo? You just got a job! An actual paying job! You’re doing better than me already!” Bobby grinned at the man he was hoping would become more than just a friend with benefits. Amadeo saw the look in Bobby’s eyes and couldn’t help himself. He grabbed Bobby and kissed him, hard.

It was a very long kiss. When the two of them finally came up for air, Kitty was smiling indulgently at them, and Danny had suddenly found an intense interest in a battered copy of Vogue magazine.

“I think we should celebrate,” Bobby said. Amadeo reached up and smoothed Bobby’s hair out of his face. Somehow, his hair had gotten mussed up. “Let’s go out to dinner. And then we can come back here and maybe watch a movie, make out a little more…”

“Well, I think that’s my cue,” Kitty said, heading for the door. Danny looked at his watch.

“I’ve got to get back to the clinic. Amadeo, see you in the morning? Say, about 7AM. We start seeing patients at eight.” He didn’t wait for answer and hurried after Kitty.

Bobby grinned at Amadeo. “Was it something we said? You’d think there was a fire or something.”

That made Amadeo laugh, hard. He gave Bobby a quick, playful kiss, then leaned his head on Bobby’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

Bobby draped his arm around Amadeo. “What for?”

“Just being here. Being you,” Amadeo said. “Now what was this about dinner and making out?”

Bobby felt a little thrill at the prospect of sexy-time with Amadeo. “I know this great little Italian place in Chelsea. You’ll have to pay, though, since you’re the one making the big bucks now.”

Amadeo rolled his eyes. “I haven’t even started yet, Bobby. I don’t have a dollar to my name.”

Bobby shrugged, like it was no big deal. “Fine, we’ll ask Harper and Remy to come along. Make that Cajun cornpone pick up the tab.”

“He paid the last time, remember?”

“Pfft. He can afford it,” Bobby waved his hand. “He brags all the time that he’s got more money than he knows what to do with. You know he used to be a high-end burglar, right? Head of the New Orleans Thieves’ Guild and everything.”

Amadeo raised his eyebrows at that, and then burst out into surprised laughter. “Oh my God...I think he robbed Laurent once, a couple years before he...before I got there. I remember hearing the guards talking about a demon in black and pink making off with the contents of the safe in Laurent’s office. Got away with a couple million in cash and jewelry.”

“Sounds like our Gumbo,” Bobby remarked. He looked at Amadeo and sighed. “You know, I’m still not sure what you’re doing with boring old me.”

Amadeo smiled a secret little smile. “I plan on showing you later tonight _exactly_ why I’m with you, Bobby Drake.”

Then he kissed him again, and Bobby forgot all about dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ku’u ipo is a native Hawai’ian term of endearment, the equivalent of “sweetheart”
> 
> Coming up next...the final chapter, but not the end of the story.


	18. Ripples in the Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does the future hold for Harper and Remy? What will become of the newly-christened Genesis Mutants? What about the mysterious Aries, father of Harper’s clan? Has the Society really been defeated? Find out in this, the conclusion of “The Mutant Moses”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t believe it’s done, the last chapter...but it’s not the end. Harper’s story is far from over!
> 
> Coming soon: The adventures of Harper, Remy and Christopher, Amadeo and Bobby, Nico and the children, and all the rest will continue in the upcoming tale, “The Mutant Moses, Part II: Project Rebirth”.

_Ripple Number One..._

Because of the influx of so many mutants, the decision was made to build an addition to the school, and construction had been completed the month before. It was a three-story dormitory building to house not only all the new arrivals, but existing students who had been, up until now, commuting due to a shortage of space. To provide a sense of normalcy, the young children lived in one large family unit, overseen by four house parents. The teens were assigned rooms in pairs, while the adults and staff were given their own studio apartments. Therapists were continuing to work with all of the Genesis mutants, helping them adjust to their new circumstances. The long-term goal was the same as it was for everyone at the school: to educate, train and prepare them to live in a world that was often hostile to them.

After a great deal of discussion, Remy and Harper decided to stay at the school full-time. Kitty had been the most persuasive, pointing out that the Genesis mutants still needed Harper; he was, for all intents and purposes, their leader. They looked to him for reassurance and guidance. On top of that, Amadeo wanted his family close. He didn’t want to be separated from his brother and nephew again, not after finally being reunited with them.

Remy and Harper were assigned their own apartment in the new building. It had two bedrooms, a small front room, private bath and even a little kitchenette. While it was a little cramped, both were grateful for the extra space. Before, they’d been getting by in Remy’s old room which, while large, hadn’t afforded them much privacy. Hard to be intimate with a precocious, energetic and absolutely nosy six-year-old running around. Still, for Remy and Harper, one of the best parts of the day was waking up to Christopher jumping exuberantly into bed with them in the morning, demanding to know what was for breakfast, and what they were going to do that day.

Although Christopher had been treated well by Matignon, he’d still been kept isolated in the big house, like a beautiful little bird in a cage. Now, everything was an exciting new discovery, no matter how small or mundane. Even a walk outside in the sunshine was enough to please the little boy. Everything was bright and shiny and new. He even liked his daily lessons with the other children; he’d taken a particular shine to Nico, and looked up to the older boy with something like hero-worship. Nico treated Christopher like a beloved little brother, with patience and kindness. Storm had remarked on this to Kitty, that Nico, even at such a young age, just eight years old, was showing real leadership potential. He was, they both agreed, someone to be watched and nurtured.

“I never t’ought someone so small could snore so big,” Remy joked as he and Harper finished putting together Christopher’s new bedroom furniture. Remy spared no expense when it came to Christopher; he seemed dead-set on spoiling his petit boug. Harper laughed at the idea of Remy being able to hear Christopher snore, since Remy snored louder Christopher, especially if he’d had a drink or three. Between the two of them, the only way Harper got any sleep at all was with the special sound-cancelling earbuds that Danny Makakoa had ordered for him.

That weekend, the two of them had gone out shopping for everything they needed to furnish their apartment. Remy had seemed unfazed by the cost and proceeded to give his Platinum charge card a serious work out. Harper had expressed concern over the amount of money he was spending, but Remy had happily pooh-poohed him, reminding him once again that he was filthy rich, thanks to his previous life as a thief, and some very wise investments in the stock market.

After the furniture and other items had been delivered, the two of them got to work making their apartment into a home. Jubilee had come and picked up Christopher, to keep the curious little boy from getting underfoot.

Remy stopped what he was doing and leaned against the wall, watching Harper, a little smile on his face. Harper was sitting cross-legged on the floor, quietly assembling a bookshelf. One of Remy’s three cats, the white one, kept playing with Harper’s tail. From time to time, Harper would flick his tail up and down, then side to side, making Figaro attack with vigor. Lucifer, the orange cat, was dozing on the windowsill, while Oliver was chasing a dust bunny that was as black as his fur.

Harper found it amusing that Remy liked cats, and teased him mercilessly about it. Luckily, the furry trio had taken the move to the school quite well, and after a couple days spent giving Harper the stink-eye, they had accepted him, too. Most amazing of all was how they’d taken to Christopher, spending every night curled up with him on his bed. Lucifer usually claimed the best spot, on the pillow next to Christopher’s head, while Figaro was content to drape himself over his little feet. Oliver didn’t seem to have a preference, choosing whatever spot was open. Remy had taken a photograph of the adorable little scene, and had it framed. It now sat on the nightstand by his side of the bed.

Harper looked up at Remy, a little wistful. Quiet times like these, he missed being able to sense Remy’s emotions. It had always been so comforting, their shared empathic link, and now it was gone. In the months since he’d lost that ability, there had been no sign of it returning. There was still hope, however small, that someday Amadeo might be able to heal him, but that was starting to look less and less likely as time went on.

“You alright dere, Boo?” Remy asked, kneeling down before him. “You look awful far away right now.”

Harper sighed and stared down at his hands, tightly folded in his lap. “I guess I miss being an empath, especially when we’re alone, more than I thought I would. I can’t tell how you’re feeling, what you’re feeling. At first, I thought it was like being blind, but really, it’s more like being deaf. I was so used to all the background ‘noise’ of other people’s emotions. Now it’s just silence.”

Remy placed his fingertips beneath Harper’s chin and lifted up his face. “Ah, petit, but I still can hear you. Here,” he tapped his heart. “You know what I’m feeling from you right now? Love. Feels good.” He smiled gently at Harper. He knew it had been hard for him, adjusting to the loss.

Harper bit his lower lip and looked away. He blinked back sudden tears. Remy knew immediately was wrong. “Non, don’t you do dat, petit. You gotta stop beatin’ yourself up over t’ings dat are done and gone, neh?”

“I feel so ashamed,” Harper choked. “I’m so sorry for everything. You should hate me for what I did to you. I almost got you and Jean-Paul killed. I can’t believe he’s even still talking to me.” After a couple of days of frosty silence, Jean-Paul had accepted Harper’s heartfelt apologies, though it had done little to alleviate his guilty conscience. Harper still hadn’t forgiven himself for the awful way he’d manipulated the people he loved.

“Ah, non...non, mon amoureux, don’t you do dat. I love you. I never should have doubted you.” Remy slid his hand behind Harper’s neck and drew him close, gently pressed his lips to Harper and kissed him, long and sweet.

“Look, baby, I know you scared. But t’ings are getting better, neh?” Remy smiled at his lover. “De Society is destroyed. All your people are free, and have a home here. De kids are goin’ ta school. You finally learned ta read!”

Harper wiped his eyes and nodded. “I know.” He laid his head on Remy’s shoulder. “You really think things are going to get better?”

“I got no doubt, petit.” Remy paused and smiled again. “You know, I got me an idea. What you t’ink about takin’ a trip? Let’s go down ta New Orleans for de holidays, neh? I was gonna ask Jubes an’ Jono ta go wit’ us, t’ank dem for all de help dey give us wit’ Christopher.”

Harper brightened right up. “Remy, that’s a great idea! You think we could bring Amadeo?”

“Well, why not? But we best bring Bobby along. Don’t want him him feeling left out.” Remy scratched his chin. “Well?”

Harper blinked back tears. That Remy would be so considerate to include his family just affirmed for him how special the man was. He grabbed Remy and kissed him.

“You’re a good man, Remy LeBeau.”

Remy laughed. “Don’t let dat get out, petit. I got me a reputation ta protect.” He wrapped his arms around Harper, and gave his ass a good, healthy squeeze. “What say we test out our new bed?” He didn’t wait for Harper to give him an answer, just slung him over his shoulder and marched into their bedroom, Harper’s laughter like music to his ears.

_Ripple Number Two…_

The last of the Genesis mutants had finally arrived at the Xavier School. The final count was ten children between the ages of five and twelve years old, twenty-four teens and eighteen adults, none older than forty. The fact that there weren’t any older ones spoke to the stark cruelty of the Society.

After extensive interviews with the adults, it was discovered that there was a long-standing policy to “euthanize” all Pets shortly after their fortieth birthday, and it had been strictly, cruelly, enforced. Why this was done, was anybody’s guess. Since all the documentation and research on the Genesis Program was destroyed in Colorado, the reason would probably never be known.

One of the most harrowing stories about this particular policy came from a woman that Amadeo had been thrilled to be reunited with: Lilith, the girl who had been designed to look like a demon, that Amadeo had comforted on the journey to obedience school all those years ago.

Lilith’s revelation came during a group therapy session attended by the other five “graduates” of her obedience school class, including Amadeo. The session was being conducted by Mary Rand, a seasoned psychotherapist who specialized in treating survivors of human trafficking. It helped that she was also a mutant with obvious physical characteristics - her skin appeared to be made of highly-polished gold, and she was able to shape anything metal like a potter shapes clay on the wheel.

It was during their third session that Lilith told her story. Clutching Amadeo’s hand, it was the first time she had spoken to anyone other than Amadeo since coming to the school, so deep was her trauma.

“I was twelve years old,” Lilith began, her voice trembling and halting. “My owner, Dr. Timmons, was a pretty decent man, a dentist. Besides me, he owned two other mutants: another Show Pet and a Worker. Marc was sixteen. But Peony, she was much older. Dr. Timmons had bought her from his brother to act as a companion and nanny to his four children after he was widowed. She pretty much raised those kids. Loved them like they were her own, and they loved her right back.” Lilith stopped and pressed her hand to her mouth, as if she might get sick. Amadeo gently stroked her back, just as he had done so many times when they were frightened children.

Lilith caught her breath. “In the weeks leading up to Peony’s fortieth birthday, Dr. Timmons got more and more frantic. He made a bunch of phone calls...we could hear him arguing with someone from his office. None of us knew about the policy...that Pets were to be euthanized at that age. Dr. Timmons decided to ignore the order, and figured there was no way the Society Orderlies…” Lilith paused again and looked at Dr. Rand. “The Orderlies were basically the enforcement arm of the Society,” she explained. Dr. Rand nodded, encouraging her to continue.

“About a month after Peony turned forty, three Orderlies showed up at the house. Dr. Timmons was at work. Peony was in the kitchen, making lunch for all of us. The kids were out of school for the holidays. The oldest, he was my age. The twins were eight, and the youngest, I think she was about five.

“They didn’t even knock. Just walked right in. Marc and I were in the front room, practicing a formal dance routine for an upcoming show and party. When we saw the Orderlies, we had no idea what was going on, but we knew who they were by their black uniforms.” Lilith pressed her fists to her eyes. She was visibly shaking, and starting to pant.

“Breathe, Lilith,” Dr. Rand soothed. “Just listen to my voice and breathe. In through your nose, slow, slow, then out through your mouth, slow, slow…” She repeated this several times until Lilith was calm again. “Do you want to continue?”

Lilith nodded. “I need to get this out. I feel like it’s eating a big hole inside me.” She grabbed a tissue and started tearing it into little pieces, letting them drop like snow at her feet. “The Orderlies walked right passed me and Marc, didn’t even look at us, didn’t say a word. The kids, they were in the kitchen with Peony, waiting for lunch.

“Marc and I were just sitting in the front room, like we were frozen in place. We were too scared to even move. Then we heard the kids screaming. The Orderlies dragged Peony out of the kitchen, physically dragged her out. The twins were clinging to her, and Jacob, the oldest, was yelling at them to let her go. The baby, she came running to me. They were all crying, hysterical. Peony was begging them to stop, that they were scaring the children. They pushed her down on her knees, and two of them held her arms. The third Orderly, he pulled out a gun and shot her in the back of the head. Right in front of the children. And then they just left.”

Lilith stopped, her eyes shut tight. Tears slipped down her face, though she made no noise. Amadeo pulled her close and held her.

“We all just sat there in the front room, huddled together around Peony’s body. We were like that when Dr. Timmons came home. He had Marc and I take the kids upstairs to their rooms. The next day, all evidence that Peony had ever been there was gone, like she had never existed. A week later, he sold me and Marc to new Masters. I never saw Marc again; I don’t know what happened to him. I heard he ran away.” Lilith took a deep breath. That was the most she had spoken in years, and it left her exhausted.

“I think that’s enough for today,” Dr. Rand said softly. “Lilith, would you like to stay after and talk some more?”

Lilith shook her head. She had retreated back to her silence. Without another word, she got up and walked out of the room.

_Ripple Number Three…_

Three days after Lilith’s heartbreaking revelation, they found her in the basement laundry facilities, hanging from an exposed pipe. She left no note. Amadeo was shattered, and for nearly a week, he was like a pale shade, hardly speaking, not eating. Bobby grew more and more concerned. He continued to attend both group and individual therapy. He went to work, was good with the patients, spent his evenings studying, with Bobby helping him.

One night, Bobby suggested they get out and go for a walk. It was early Autumn, and the air was cool and crisp.

Amadeo shut his copy of Gray’s Anatomy and smiled up at Bobby. “That sounds great, actually.”

Amadeo stood and grabbed his coat from a peg on the wall. Bobby watched him, still amazed that someone as beautiful and kind as Amadeo was with him. He never complained about Bobby’s cold skin, his sometimes sloppy kisses, or his occasional immaturity. He even laughed - for real - at Bobby’s stupid jokes. Younger Bobby had expressed surprise that Older Bobby had managed to land such a cute boyfriend. Bobby had reminded his younger self that at least his boyfriend didn’t ignore him for days at a time, unlike Romeo. The conversation had ended with the two of them chucking snowballs at each other.

They found a vendor not from the school selling hot chocolate and doughnuts. Amadeo had insisted on buying some for both of them, and they found a quiet little bench to sit and enjoy their treats. Bobby put his arm around Amadeo and pulled him close.

“You warm enough?” Bobby asked. Obviously, the cold didn’t bother him, but he worried about Amadeo.

“Plenty warm,” Amadeo reassured him. He took a sip of his cocoa, enjoying the way it warmed him all the way down. He leaned his head against Bobby, and gave a happy little sigh.

They were sitting there, content in their closeness, the quiet peace, when Bobby thought he heard something behind them. He squinted into the darkened stand of trees and low-lying shrubbery.

“What is it?” Amadeo asked, nervous.

Bobby shook his head. “I swear, I heard something in there...an animal or something.” The sound came again, a low growl. Bobby stood up fast, gave Amadeo’s hand a quick squeeze, then let go. “Stay right here, ‘Deo.”

“Bobby, don’t!” Amadeo clutched at Bobby’s arm. “You don’t know what it is.”

“There’s people all over the park, I can’t just leave.” He turned and looked at Amadeo. “Go back to the school. Get whoever you can, bring them back here. I think…”

And then something moved out of the shadows, fast, almost a blur. Before Amadeo could even shout a warning, it was on top of Bobby. It looked like a monster out of a child’s nightmare, the wolf from Little Red Riding Hood, thick black fur covering its vaguely human body, eyes gleaming red. Before Bobby could shift to his ice-form, it slammed him into the ground, knocking him unconscious. It raked its huge claws across Bobby’s chest, laying it open. Blood spattered across Amadeo’s face. For a moment, the gentle healer just stood there, too shocked to even move. Then he heard Bobby groan, and it woke in him something fierce and dangerous.

_“Get the fuck off my man,”_ Amadeo snarled. He grabbed the beast by the scruff of its thick neck and pulled. It turned on Amadeo, growling, Bobby forgotten for the moment.

It lunged at Amadeo and pushed him onto his back, holding him down by the arms. Amadeo winced as it pushed his face close to his, it’s hot breath falling on his face. Bloody spittle dripped from it’s gaping jaws.

Unable to move his arms, Amadeo pressed his forehead to the beast’s chest and concentrated. He wasn’t familiar with its physiology, but he knew enough to send pain lancing through it’s muscular body. It yelped, surprised, but did not let go. Amadeo continued to struggle. Again, it dipped its head close to Amadeo’s, and sniffed at him.

It stared at Amadeo in a way that surprised him: this creature was no animal. It was intelligent. And it spoke to him:

“I know you, Child. You have our scent.” The wolf-beast stood and tilted its head in a curious gesture.

Amadeo froze. “Who...who you?”

“I am Aries.” Then, without another word, it ran off, quicker than Amadeo could track it as it disappeared back into the darkness. Shaking, Amadeo crawled over to Bobby.

“Hold on, sweetheart, everything is going to be alright.” He cradled Bobby’s head in his lap, and laid his hands alongside his head. Bobby’s wounds, while bloody and messy, weren’t as bad as Amadeo had feared, and it was a simple thing to heal him.

Bobby groaned as Amadeo helped him sit up. He experienced a moment of panic, slapping his hands to his chest. “Holy crap…’Deo, did I just get attacked by a werewolf? In Central Park?”

Amadeo laughed with relief and hugged Bobby to him. “You scared the shit out of me, Robert.”

“Uh oh. You used ‘Robert’. I’m in trouble, aren’t I?” Bobby joked as Amadeo helped him to his feet. He was still a little unsteady, so Amadeo wrapped his arm around his waist and held tight.

“Easy now,” Amadeo soothed. “Let’s get you back to the school before that thing changes its mind and comes back.” Slowly, they began walking back toward home.

“I heard it talking to you. What did it say?”

Amadeo frowned. “I think that was my father.”

Bobby gave a surprised bark of laughter. “Damn. And I thought my Dad was mean.” He paused and pressed a quick kiss to Amadeo’s cheek. “I know this is isn’t the most romantic moment, but...I love you, ‘Deo.”

Amadeo felt tears sting his eyes, and he quickly blinked them away. “I love you, too. And don’t claim traumatic amnesia later when I remind you that you said it first.”

“You’re a cruel man, ‘Deo,” Bobby chuckled.

_Ripple Number Four..._

Inside a nondescript building in an industrial part of New Jersey, Carver was waiting for a very special visitor. After the destruction of the genetics facility in Colorado, and the mysterious disappearance of Laurent Matignon, most people figured the Society was done, consigned to the dustbin of history. Many of the former members had quietly gone on with their lives, grateful that the worst thing that happened to them was losing their Pets. They knew it could have gone much worse for them if they’d been publicly exposed as slave-owners.

However, there was a core group of Society members who refused to give up on their dream of creating the perfect mutant slave. Although much of their research was lost, there was one thing Harper had missed during his frantic mission to destroy the Society.

Carver was sitting in his office, looking through a small stack of folders. He held up a photo from one of them and smiled. When a buzzer sounded, letting him know he had a visitor, he put the folders inside his desk, hit the button that unlocked the door, and sat back.

“Hello, Dr. Vangelica, welcome to Apex Genetics.” Carver stood and walked around his desk, extended his hand to the older man. Vangelica didn’t offer his.

“Sorry. Germs.” Vangelica said, keeping his hands in his pockets. He shrugged in apology.

“Aw, sorry. I forgot. Excuse my presumption,” Carver said, smooth as glass and just as cold. “Please, sit. We have much to discuss.”

Vangelica took a seat, set his briefcase on the floor, and folded his hands in his lap. He looked at Carver with cool indifference. He found the man incredibly vulgar, but knew he needed his vast financial resources if he was going to get Project Rebirth off the ground.

“Very nice facility you have here, Mr. Carver,” Vangelico commented. He’d been given a tour by Carver’s assistant, a beautiful young woman who seemed much too nice to be working for a bastard like him.

“Thank you. It used to be a pharmaceutical research company. I bought it and all the equipment, made sure everything was updated for the project. Hired some of the best R&D team in the field of genetics.” Carver paused, waiting for Dr. Vangelica to say something. He didn’t. Carver coughed to cover up the awkward silence, and continued. “I gather you brought all the backup drives from the Durango facility?”

Vangelica retrieved his briefcase from the floor and put it on the desk. “Everything is in there, including the genetic samples from Harper.”

Carver flinched. He still had nightmares about what Harper had done to him. He swore that when he got his hands on that little son of a bitch, he’d give him a taste of the torture he’d inflicted on him. He’d given a lot of thought to everything he would do to him. He already had a plan in place to snatch Harper, and his loved ones, too. He was going to make Harper beg for their lives, then make him watch as he slaughtered them. He did not tell Vangelica any of this; he knew the little prat would object.

“Only Harper’s? How are we going to go forward with the project with just his DNA? Even the original program used four unique donors.”

Vengelica smiled. “I have found five new candidates for DNA extraction. Three male, two female.” He opened the briefcase and pulled out a short stack of manila folders, slid them across the desk to Carver. Carver picked them up, and studied each one.

Vangelica cleared his throat, and began. “Subject one is Jean-Paul Beaubier. Aside from the fact that he is an impressive physical specimen, he’s also a powerful mutant. Among his abilities are super-speed and flight, with associated heightened reflexes, accelerated metabolism, superhuman durability and G-Force compensation. Photokinesis, including the ability generate concussive blasts. Incredibly vain and arrogant man, even for a French-Canadian.” Vengelica sneered. He hated the French.

“Subject two: Katherine “Kitty” Pryde. Jewish girl. Very bright, even for a mutant. She possesses the ability to ‘phase’ through solid matter by passing her atomic particles through the spaces between the atoms of the object through which she is moving. Technically, the term is quantum tunneling.”

Carver looked at the photo included in Kitty’s file. “She doesn’t look Jewish.”

Vangelica bit back an ugly retort, reminding himself again that Carver was important to the project. At least, his money was. Once everything was in place, as far as he was concerned, Carver could go fuck himself.

“Subject three: Remy LeBeau. Very little is known about his past, but his mutant gifts are what caught my eye. He is able to convert the potential energy stored in inanimate objects into pure light kinetic energy with very powerful explosive results. The larger the object charged, the larger the explosion, although it also takes more time, so he tends to prefer small objects he can easily carry, such as playing cards. He’s also a very skilled empath. Quite charming, in fact.”

Carver grunted. “This is Harper’s mate, yes?”

“Yes indeed. They are well matched.”

Carver didn’t want to discuss that, and made a “hurry it up” motion with his hand. Vangelica smiled. Part of the reason he’d chosen LeBeau was a subtle dig at Carver. Despite the man’s best efforts, everyone had heard about what Harper had done to Carver, and that it had been another mutant who had saved his miserable hide.

“Subject four: Rachael Grey. Again, not much is known about her, except that she is the daughter of Scott Summers, the former leader of the X-Men and another mutant, Jean Gray. Both dead. Ms. Grey is an Omega-level telepath. Exceptional specimen.

“Finally, subject five: Daniel Makakoa. This one is of particular importance to the project. He has the ability to shapeshift into any animal he wants, perfectly mimicking their form and abilities. Any animal, in fact: birds, reptiles, mammals, amphibians, fish. And again, he is another amazing specimen, very physically appealing, as all these subjects are.”

Carver frowned. “And what about Harper?”

“What about him? I already took what I needed from him. He’s nothing now, nothing special about him.”

“Yes, very true.” Carver stood and looked out the window for a moment, then turned back to Vangelica. “And I assume you have a plan in place to...umm...collect these specimens?”

“Correct. Just waiting for your approval to begin.”

Carver grinned. He liked that, Vangelica begging for his approval, his money, his influence and power. It felt good, very affirming. Carver had always been the second most powerful member of the Society. And now, with Matignon gone, presumed dead, he was now the de facto patriarch.

“You have my approval to begin Phase One.”

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who followed along with me and Harper. I hope you enjoyed it, and I look forward to continuing Harper’s story.


End file.
